






Drifting F(ouriD thbworld. 
A Voyage IN the6unbeam. 
OUR BOYS IN India. 
OUR Boys in China. 
YouriG Americans in japanv, 
You Kg Americans in tokio. 
YDu^G Americans in yezo. 

THE I^LL OF SEBASTOPOL. 

Fighting the Saracens. 
THE Young colonists. 




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O 




TirRoVNDAB°VT|00|(S 




r /> "r, ' 

' Harry w.'FREiNCH 

AUTHOR OF^ 

'Ouf^ Boys ]/^\ CMinA'^ 

V\jR Bovs \n Irelaaid' 
Etc Etc. 



BOSTOIV. 

Charles E.Brownc^-Co, 



Copyright, 1892, 
By Charles E. Brown & Co. 



c^^"^ 
^-<^<?>'^ 



S. J. PARKHILL & CO., PRINTERS 



BOSTON 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. A Flash of Lightning i 

II. The Wishbone Night ...... 9 

III. Being Heroes ........ 16 

IV. Paul among the Hindus ..... 25 
V. Wild Life on the River, and a Hindu Feast . 48 

VI. Scott in the Mysteries of India ... 75 

VII. Snakes 103 

VIII. In Palanquin and Row Boat . . . . ii3 

IX. An Elephant Fight and a Mountain Ride . . 141 

X. Thugs and Traitors ...... 180 

XI. Pilgrims, Priests, and People Everywhere . . 192 

XII. Among the Palaces 213 

XIII. Delhi, Dennett, and Dhondaram .... 229 

XIV. Scott at the Hindu Feast ..... 240 
XV. You SHALL i;e my Hak:-Sah!b . - . . . . 250 

XVI. Scott's P'irst Tiger, and P'inal Prize . . 286 

XVII. It was my own Dhondaram 303 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

HE Elephant Fight ..... Frontispiece 

Haying 2 

Roderick Dennett's Wife 4 

Richard Raymond . 5 

By the Sea, and the Pines and the Oaks .... 8 

The Wishbone Night 11 

The Interview . . . . . . . . . .13 

Richard Raymond and Scott Clayton . . . . 17 

It takes more than Bravery to make a Hero . . .19 

Bess and her Pet 22 

In the Bazaar .24 

Paul and the Hag . 30 

Dhondaram 3^ 

Daughters of Kali 39 

Boats and Boatmen of the Ganges . .... 41 

A Curious Contrivance ........ 45 

Crocodiles . . , . . . . . . .46 

"They are coming to bathe the Idol" .... 49 

The Mad Elephant . . . 53 

The Long Road . . . . . . ... 56 

The Goddess Kali . .57 

Native Huts . 62 

Native Cart 65 

Beggar and Boy ^7 

The Hindu Feast . 69 

A Narrow Street Tl 

Coast of Bombay 76 

Jugglers . 79 

Serpent-Charmers Z2 

Fruit-Seller .......... 85 

Going to Market . . . . . . , . . Z6 

To Malabar Hill ^% 

In the Bazaar .......... 91 

Hindu Mendicant ......... 95 

Esofali's House . . ,98 

Five Years Old ......... loi 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The Cotton-Brokers ........ 104 

MoRO 105 

Sayad ............ 106 

Carriage of Hindu Lady ■ 109 

More Snake-Charmers . . . . . . . .111 

The Crowd became Denser. . . . . . . 112 

The Festival of the Serpents . . . . . .115 

Sapwallah .......... 116 

The Palanquin . . . . . . . . . .120 

Being Shaved .......... 122 

The Postman .123 

A Hindu Temple . . . , . . ' . . . 126 

The Musicians 128 

Schoolboys Saluting 130 

Under a Priest . , . . . . . . .131 

Caves of Elephanta 134 

Marriage of Siva • i35 

A Katwadi 136 

Wandering Munis . . -139 

Rhinoceros Fight 147 

The Dak Garri 150 

The Slaughter-House . . . , . . . . 151 

A Native Pottery , . . I54 

Narbada River 155 

The Marble Gorge 159 

Like the Cedars of Lebanon 162 

The Mountain Village . 164 

The Old Man and his Wives ...... 166 

A Hindu Driving Bullocks 167 

The Dve-House 175 

Thugs I77 

The Old Fort . . . . . . . . . 181 

"There is no Need to bind me, Captain" .... 185 

Scene of the Massacre of Two Thousand Hindus by the 

British 186 

The Scene of Nana Sahib's Massacre of the British . 1S8 

Preaching the Insurrection 190 

Benares . , . , , • - ^93 



LIST OF ILL USTRA2 IONS. 

Temples by the River . 198 

Burning the Dead 200 

The Beautiful Marble Ghats . . . 201 

The Observatory •...— ..... 202 

A Funeral Procession . .. ., .. , . . . 205 

The Old Tope at Sarnath .. 210 

The Famous Delhi Gate 214 

Palace Court and Taj Mahal in the Distance . . .217 

The Balcony . . . . 219 

The Beautiful Gate . 220 

The Taj from the Garden . . 221 

A Rajah of the Good Old Days .. .. . . . . 225 

Advertising Rocks . . ...... . 226 

The Tomb of Selim Christi ......... 227 

The Railway Bridge over the Jumna, at Delhi . . 230 

Delhi of Three Thousand Years ago 232 

KuTUB Minar . . . . 235 

The Cashmere Gate of Delhi ........ 237 

Massuri in the Mountains ....... 248 

The Dyers 253 

Dhondaram in Armor . . . ... . . 255 

The Corn-Chandler 259 

Bathing an Idol , 260 

The Merchant .......... 264 

The Day's March through the Mountains . . . 265 

The Cloud Mountain by the Moon ..... 267 

Up among the SNO^vs ........ 269 

The Golden Temple ........ 270 

A Curious People . . . . . . . , . 272 

The Wood-Cutter ......... 273 

The Sheperdess ......... 274 

The Black Gorges ......... 275 

The Camp on the Heights 279 

He heard a Sharp Report ....... 283 

Rajpoot Guard 287 

The Mountain Coolies ........ 289 

Scott's First Tiger . 291 

"Paul! Paul!" 301 




OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



CHAPTER I. 




A FLASH OP LIGHTNING. 

ANY who were boys in Massachusetts only a 
few years ago will well remember a startling 
notice that was printed in the newspapers, and 
was posted in conspicuous positions throughout 
the State, declaring in great letters, — 

A CHILD MISSING ! — TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS REWAED. 

Paul Clayton, the youngest son of Benjamin Clayton, president of the 
Merchants' and Shippers' Bank of Boston, has been missing from home since 
Aug. 10. 

It is supposed that the boy was stolen, between the hours of eight and nine 
on the night of the loth of August, from the summer residence of Mr. Clayton, at 
Beverly Farms. He was six years old, had long, brown curling hair, a full face, 
light complexion, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. He was a particularly happy- 
tempered and affectionate child, large for his age, and unusually mature and 
inteUigent. 

Any one giving information that shall result in his recovery will receive 
the sum of twenty thousand dollars. 

(Signed) PHINEAS SHARP, 

Chief of the Boston Detective Bureau, Boston^ Mass, 



2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

There may be some who even followed one clew or another, 
partly out of sympathy for little Paul Clayton, and partly at- 
tracted by the large reward. But the first five days went by 
without the desired information. 

The farmers had almost finished their haying, and they were 
glad of it; for upon that 15th there was a terrible thunder- 
storm, that tore up and threw down every thing in the fields 




that would yield to it. At six o'clock the sun came out again ; 
but in an hour it set in dense clouds, and a lingering storm set 
in, that lasted several days. 

Richard Raymond had returned from India only two days 
before. He went directly to his sister's house in Beverly. She 
was his only living relative ; and that was the old homestead that 
he had left, as a boy, now nearly twenty years before. Anxious 
to see the old landmarks again, and supposing that the storm 
had broken up, he took advantage of the cool air and the 
momentary sunshine to go out for a stroll. 



A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 3 

In fifteen minutes he was buried in the pine forests, that 
every one who has ever been there will remember, extending 
between Beverly and Beverly Farms. The dry, sandy soil had 
rapidly absorbed the water that had poured down upon it ; and 
Richard Raymond wore a pair of boots so thick, that he did not 
even notice the drops yet clinging to the ferns and blueberry- 
bushes. He was thirty-five years old ; but he felt like the boy 
of fifteen again, as he once more pushed his way through the 
low branches, stopping now and then to pick a leaf of winter- 
green, hard and tasteless, though it was in the middle of August. 

His heart was full of sunshine. He did not even notice that 
the real sunlight was again enveloped in dense clouds, and 
rapidly fading out of the east, till drops began to patter on the 
leaves, and the wind to sigh in a moist and rainy way through 
the branches of occasional oaks that grew among the pines; 
but it sounded so natural, — so much like what he had often 
heard when a boy, — that he only laughed, and felt so much the 
more at home. 

Still he kept on his walk, till suddenly he realized that it was 
becoming very dark ; and he stopped for a moment to wonder 
where he was, and what direction he should take to go back 
again. Every thing was changed, to the very forests. He 
did not remember the old paths so well as he thought, even 
those that were the same as they had been twenty years before. 
In fact, he very soon came to the conclusion that he was lost. 
And, as if the clouds were laughing at him, they began to pour 
down the rain almost as fast as they had in the afternoon. Then 
the lightning flashed : but this was fortunate, for in the light he 
discovered that he was very near a road ; and, reaching it as 
soon as possible, he drew himself close to the trunk of a tree,' 
to wait there till some team should pass or the rain should 
cease. 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Neither of these things happened at once; but, before he 
had been there very long, he heard some one muttering. It 
was a woman's voice : she was talking to herself. In a moment 
more a flash of lightning disclosed the figure of a woman, with 
torn clothes and a very pale face, creeping along the road, drip- 
ping with water, wring- 
ing her hands, and wail- 
ing in words that he 
could not understand. 

Richard Raymond 
spoke to her. She gave 
a faint cry of fear at 
first ; but then she 
caught his hand, and 
burst into tears. He 
could just see her as 
she stood close beside 
him. 

"O sir! save me, 
save me ! " she cried. 
" Find my husband for 
me, and I will give you 
— I will give you — any 
thing, any thing ! '* 

The woman was evi- 
dently insane ; and, as she clasped Richard's hand, something that 
she was holding fell to the ground, but she did not notice it. 

"Is your husband lost, my good woman?" asked Richard 
gently. " What was his name ? " 

The poor woman dropped his hand, and, covering her face, 
began to cry again, sobbing, " Oh, his name was Roderick, 




RODERICK DENNETT'S WIFE. 



A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 



Roderick Dennett ! and we were married only a month ago ; 
and now he has left me forever. He has been gone five days. 
Oh, he has gone forever ! Yes, gone forever, I know." 

Richard Raymond started when the woman pronounced that 
name ; and in the darkness and the pouring rain, and a strange 
conflict of thoughts that had been produced by the sound of 
the word that was very familiar to him, he did not notice that 
the woman had suddenly left him. But she was gone. He 
could not tell in which direction. He called, but she did not 
answer. He remembered that she had dropped something, and 
stooped and picked it up. It was 
evidently a little watch and chain. 
He walked rapidly down the road, 
but could not find her. 

A few minutes later Mr. Ray- 
mond had discovered lights in 
windows close at hand, and soon 
found himself sheltered in a little 
station a few miles from Beverly, 
on a branch road. He was still 
repeating that name " Roderick Dennett ; " for he and Roderick 
Dennett ran away to sea together twenty years before, and 
together wandered as far as India. There Richard had 
dropped the sowing of wild oats, and by diligent application 
had become a wealthy man ; but Roderick had lived by deceiv- 
ing every one with whom he had any thing to do. At the end 
of ten years he left India, and Richard knew no more of him, 
till now he suddenly heard the name again ; and, as ever, it was 
connected with crime. 

Richard looked at the little watch that he still held in his 
hand. It was a silver hunting-case. He opened it. It had 




RICHARD RATMOND. 



5 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

run down. On the inside of the cover the name " Paul " was 
engraved in the silver. He shut it up again, and went on think- 
ing, while he waited for a train. 

As he sat there, his eyes wandered over the room, and 
finally rested on a notice calculated to attract attention. It was 
under the large head-line, — 

"A CHILD MISSING!" 

and three times he read the notice through, then suddenly 
opened the little watch again, and read the name engraved on 
the cover, " Paul." 

He began putting the facts together that had so curiously 
come under his notice all in a single hour. 

" He left her five days ago," he said to himself. "■ Five days 
ago was Aug. lo. I wonder if there can be any connection be- 
tween the Paul Clayton on the notice there, and the Paul whose 
name is in this watch, and Roderick Dennett, whose wife was 
carrying it an hour ago ! " 

A train whistled, and drew up at the station. Richard seated 
himself in it, and safely reached his home. The next day he 
went to Boston, and soon learned that the name of Roderick 
Dennett was upon many lips as connected with a crime more 
bold than he had ever committed in India, and that the man 
had disappeared. Officers were eagerly searching for him, bur 
with no clew ; and no one connected him with the abduction of 
the missing child. Richard said nothing of his suspicions : but, 
at the earliest possible opportunity, he went to New York ; and, 
after a week of work that would have surprised even the Boston 
Detective Bureau, he came to the conclusion that a Benjamin 
Shipman and daughter, who sailed from there upon a Mediter- 
ranean steamer, of the Anchor Line, at noon on the nth of 



A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. m 

August, were none other than Roderick Dennett and the miss- 
ing Paul Clayton. 

He had no real authority for this, and the police-officers 
would have laughed at him had he told them upon what frail 
ground he based his belief. Yet he felt so sure of it, that, had 
he had the power, he would have had this Benjamin Shipman 
arrested, and brought back to America : but the steamer had 
been gone for thirteen days before he became positive, and by 
that time she would have passed the Straits of Gibraltar ; and 
he fancied that Roderick Dennett would have taken passage 
upon the first connecting steamer for India. 

Richard Raymond had now become thoroughly interested in 
the matter ; and, though he saw the folly of laying his suspicions 
before the officers, he was resolved to see the father of the miss- 
ing child, and, placing the facts before him, offer his services. 

While he is on his way back to Beverly, intent upon going 
over at once to the Farms, let us, too, turn to the home of the 
little Paul Clayton as it was upon the evening of the loth of 
the month. 




^s^-sj^. 



THE WISHBONE NIGHT, 




CHAPTER II. 

THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 

JENJAMIN CLAYTON'S cottage at Beverly Farms 
was one of the prettiest in that beautiful forest skirt- 
ing the coast. It was built in the old Gothic style, 
with long windows ; and when the lights shone 
through them at night, they seemed like some of the old castle 
windows of Europe. The sea dashed against the rocks upon 
one side of the road, and the pine forest surrounded the house 
on the other, Beverly Farms is so near to Boston, that Mr. 
Clayton could go to the bank in the city every day almost as 
conveniently as though he remained at his city home ; so that 
all summer and every summer his four happy children, Scott, 
Bess, Paul, and Kittie, romped in the forest, or played upon the 
seashore. 

Kittie was the baby-girl. Paul was the youngest boy. On 
the tenth day of August he was six years old. Bess was nine, 
and Scott was fourteen. They were all the world to each other, 
and their happy home was almost a heaven to them. 

The Gothic cottage was filled with children on this loth of 
August. Paul was enjoying a birthday party with his friends. 
It was the lucky " six," and hence was made a wishbone party; 
and every little couple was given a wishbone to secure for them- 
selves the best thing that heart could think of on this auspi- 
cious occasion. There was something superstitiously sacred in 
the wishing ; and there was something so sacred to the brothers 



lO -PUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and sisters In each other, that they stole away by themselves, 
after the wishbones had been distributed, to break them where 
no one else could see or hear. 

i.* What do you wish for, little Paul ? " cried Bess with a 
merry laugh. 

Paul was thoughtful. His brow contracted in a studious 
way ; his blue eyes wandered up and down the brittle bone. 

" What do you wish for, Bess ? " he asked doubtfully. 

*' I ? " said Bess. " Oh ! I wish you many happy returns of 
the day, of course ; but you must wish for something for your- 
self, you know." 

" Well," said Paul at last, " I wish that I might visit that 
wonderful land of India, that aunt Jane was telling us about 
this afternoon. I wish I might go all over India." 

" I withe tho too," lisped little Kittie. 

** And I," said Scott, looking over Bess's shoulder, " I wish 
for an opportunity to be a hero." 

" What a funny wish ! " cried Bess ; " but pull, brothers, 
pull ! Now : one, two, three ! " and the wishbones snapped. 

Paul ran away to find his father, and tell him of the result. 

In the library sat Mr. Clayton and another gentleman. It 
required but a glance at the two to tell at once that both were 
in desperate earnestness over something. 

For two days Benjamin Clayton had worn a very serious face 
in his private office at the bank, for something had been going 
wrong. No one had noticed this at home ; for, while Mr. Clay- 
ton thought of nothing but his business in the city, he never 
brought any of it home with him, in his face at least, where 
the children could see it. He was the president of the largest 
bank in Boston ; and two days before, he had discovered some- 
thing in the cashier's accounts that the great bank examiner 




THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 



12 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

had overlooked ; and the deeper he studied those accounts, the 
greater the fraud appeared, till, to his horror, he found that the 
cashier was a defaulter and a robber to the amount of nearly a 
half-million dollars. It seemed incredible that every one had 
been so blinded ; yet there were the figures, when Mr. Clayton 
gave them his attention, and the securities that had been left 
with the bank were gone. 

Mr. Clayton had said nothing to his cashier ; but with the 
quick suspicion of a guilty mind, that Shakspeare talks about, 
the cashier had discovered that he knew all about it, and to- 
night, in spite of the party, he had come out to the Farms, and 
was in earnest conversation with the president. 

Mr. Clayton listened without a word, while the cashier laid 
the whole matter before him, and ended in this way : — 

" Now, Mr. Clayton, the deed is done, and you have found 
it out. You were too smart for me by about a week. What I 
propose to do is this : I shall be at the bank late at night, on 
the last of the month, settling the accounts. I shall be attacked 
by men that I shall hire. They will break into the safe, and 
the next day there will have been a terrible robbery. As you 
have found me out, I shall have to divide with you. I shall take 
charge of disposing of the securities, and will give you, in good 
money, one quarter of a million dollars." 

Mr. Clayton was a man who had learned by long trial to 
control himself, and act carefully ; but this was something that 
was beyond his utmost will. He sprang to his feet. His face 
was flushed with anger. 

** Roderick Dennett ! " he exclaimed, " had you come to 
me lyith any show of penitence, I could have forgiven you, and 
done all in my power to make others forgive you too. But not 
for all the money in the world would I help you to cover up a 
crime." 



THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 



13 



" Then you will expose me ? " said Roderick sullenly. 

" Most assuredly ! " replied Mr. Clayton, sitting down again. 

" You will be exposing yourself," said Roderick. " No one 
will believe that a half-million dollars could have been taken 
from the bank by the cashier without the knowledge of the 




THE INTERVIEW. 



president ; and it would be much better for you and the bank, 
as well as for me, if it went as a robbery." 

" I do not care if every one suspects me ! I do not care 
if I am imprisoned for life ! " exclaimed Mr. Clayton. " I would 
not aid you to steal a pin for all the money in Boston, or any 
other consideration. You are a miserable scoundrel ! a black- 
leg ! a villanous dog ! I will denounce you ! " 

" Stop ! " cried Roderick Dennett angrily. " Be careful ! I'll 
make you suffer for what you are saying ! " 



14 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Just as Mr. Clayton was about to reply, Paul came running 
into the room with the broken wishbone in his hand. 

" Papa, papa ! " he cried, " come down and wish with us. 
Oh, we are having such fun ! I've just wished that I might go 
to India, and I've got my wish. I know I'm going; for it's the 
lucky night, you know." 

Here little Paul hesitated ; and with the broken bone in one 
hand, and his curly little head hanging to one side, he looked 
from his father to the stranger, and back again, for he saw 
that something was the matter. 

" Run away now, Paul," said his father : " you must not dis- 
turb me. I will come down by and by." He said it very kindly : 
but, after all, it was so different from the way in which he had 
always spoken, that Paul felt a great lump gather in his throat ; 
and, instead of going back to the merry party of children, he 
crept out on the veranda all alone, and began to cry. 

Some terrible words passed between the two men as soon 
as Paul had gone out, but no one ever knew what they were. 
The stranger went away very soon, but Mr. Clayton did not 
come out of the library. No one saw him till over an hour 
later, when his wife and Scott and Bess, in great anxiety, came 
hurrying into the room. For a moment they forgot their 
errand ; for there sat Mr. Clayton, just where Paul had left him, 
ghastly pale and terribly agitated. He did not notice them till 
his wife bent over him, and anxiously asked, — 

"What is it, Benjamin? What is it? Has anything hap- 
pened to Paul ? " 

" To Paul ? " Mr. Clayton started to his feet ; for little Paul 
was his petted boy, and at that moment, at least, seemed the 
dearest thing on earth to him. 

" We cannot find him. We have hunted everywhere," cried 
Bess, who could no longer restrain herself. 



THE WISHBONE NIGHT. ig 

With his eyes fixed in a terrible stare, Mr. Clayton turned 
toward his wife. In her face he read the truth. With one 
groan he staggered backward, and fell upon the floor. It was 
a severe stroke of paralysis, and the night was sad enough in 
that happy family. 

The terrible danger in which the father stood distracted the 
attention partly from little Paul ; and at best they could not have 
known which way to turn, for no one knew of Roderick Dennett 
and the conversation that had passed in the library. No one 
knew of the terrible threats he had made, and of how little Paul 
had come into the library just when he was trying to determine 
what he could do to make Mr. Clayton suffer most. 

Mr. Clayton could have turned the search in the right direc- 
tion, and doubtless have arrested the fugitive and villain before 
he could have escaped, which Roderick Dennett was very fear- 
ful would come to pass. But the father's lips were sealed with 
paralysis ; and for weeks after the shock he did not speak a 
word, or hardly know what was transpiring about him. 

The sudden disappearance of the cashier, and the illness of 
the president, annoyed the officers of the bank : and, though the 
defalcation was not at once discovered, matters looked strangely 
suspicious ; and in two days the whole was known, and officers 
were sent to search for the fugitive. But it was two days too 
late. Roderick Dennett escaped without suspicion ; and, had it 
not been for one contingency, he might have lived for years, 
and perhaps died, without having any search properly directed. 
That contingency was the very last that he had looked for, — 
the presence of Richard Raymond on the scene. 



16 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 



CHAPTER III. 



BEING HEROES. 




T was on the thirtieth day of August that Richard Ray- 
mond introduced himself in the disconsolate home. 
He was ushered into the library ; and as Mrs. Clayton 
was engaged in assisting the doctor with her husband, 
it was some time before she appeared. Scott sat by the centre- 
table, with an open book before him ; but his eyes were swollen 
with crying, and his cheeks were wet with tears. He was not 
reading. The stranger came in so suddenly, that Scott had no 
opportunity to leave the room ; but he was ashamed to be 
found crying, and hid his face. 

Richard Raymond, with the true sympathy of an honest 
heart, realized the position : and, to try and make friends with 
the poor boy, he threw himself carelessly into an easy-chair 
beside him ; and, taking a book from the shelves at hand, he 
pretended for a time to be engaged in reading. Scott turned 
his head away, and rested his cheek in his hand, struggling to 
stifle the sobs that kept forcing themselves from his sad heart. 
This gave Mr. Raymond an opportunity to study him carefully 
for a moment, before he attempted to draw him into conversa- 
tion ; and, as he was a kind-hearted and shrewd man, he was at 
last able to succeed. 

" I used to roam about here when I was a boy like you," 
said Richard; "but there were no houses here then. And 
beyond the woods we used sometimes even to see wolves and 



BEING HEROES. 



17 



foxes. Once, when I was ten years old, I went in the winter to 
a field about half a mile from here with a boy who was older 
than I. We were pretending that we were pioneers, and had 
gathered some 
sticks to build a 
fire, and had 
brought some ap- 
ples and potatoes 
from home to 
bake. While we 
were at work, I 
looked up, and 
saw a large ani- 
mal just springing 
upon me. I could 
not tell whether it 
was a fox, or a 
wolf, or only a 
savage dog ; but, 
as I turned to run, 
he leaped, and 
threw me down. 
I fell upon my 
back, and he stood 
over me, with his 
great red tongue 
hanging out of 
his mouth, as I held him for life by the long hair on his throat. 
The boy who was with me had turned to run: but, when he saw 
me in trouble, he stopped ; and, coming- back with the axe that 
we brought to cut the wood for the fire, he struck the creature 




RICHAKD RAYMOND AND SCOTT CLAYTON. 



1 8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

a terrible blow behind the shoulders that almost cut him in 
two." 

" He was a very brave boy," said Scott. " Did he live to 
grow up a hero ? " 

" It takes more than bravery to make a hero," replied Mr. 
Raymond. 

" I wish I were a hero," said Scott with a deep sigh. " I 
have great need to be one now." And he turned his head away 
again ; and Richard, seeing that he was once more struggling 
with the tears, endeavored to change the subject by saying, — 

" Yes, the boy did live ; and he has grown up to be a sort of 
a hero in one way, but I fancy it is not the kind of a hero that 
you would like to be." 

"Tell me about him, sir," said Scott. "What is his name?' 

" It is Roderick Dennett," said Richard. 

" Roderick Dennett ! " exclaimed Scott, looking up. " Why, 
that is the name of the cashier of papa's bank." 

" It is the very same man," replied Richard. 

" But they say that he has run away with some of the bank 
money," said Scott in surprise. 

"That is being one kind of a hero, is it not?" asked 
Richard. 

" A very bad hero," said Scott. 

"That is precisely what I meant, that it takes more than 
bravery to be a true hero. It took bravery to rob the bank, 
but he would have been much stronger had he resisted the 
temptation." 

"Are there any wolves about here now, dr foxes?" asked 
Scott with a shudder. 

" Not many, I think," replied Mr. Raymond. " But why do 
you ask ? " 




IT TAKES MOEE THAN BRAVERY TO MAKE A HERO. 



20 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" I was wondering if it could have been one of them that 
carried off brother Paul," said Scott, bursting into tears. 

"That is what I have come to see you and your mother 
about," Mr. Raymond replied at last ; " for I think that I know 
something about your brother Paul." Scott started to his feet ; 
but Mr. Raymond continued, " I believe it is the man who 
saved my life that has taken Paul away." 

" Mr. Roderick Dennett ! " exclaimed Scott. 

"Yes, Mr. Roderick Dennett. Do you know if he was 
about here on the night of the party ? " asked Richard. 

" Yes, sir, he was," replied Scott ; " for Bess and I saw him 
go through the hall, and go out, just a little while before we 
missed our brother. He hurried past us. Bess said, ' Good- 
evening, Mr. Dennett ; ' but he never noticed us. We thought 
it very strange, for he was always so kind when he came up to 
see papa. But I had forgotten all about it since then." 

" Do you know whose watch this is ? " asked Mr. Raymond, 
showing Scott the little silver watch that the poor woman had 
dropped on the ground. 

Scott seized it eagerly, exclaiming, with tears in his eyes, — 

" O sir, it is Paul's ! It was his birthday present from 
papa. He wore it in the evening." 

Richard Raymond was satisfied that he was right, though all 
that he had built upon would have been thought a very frail 
foundation to a legal detective. Just then Mrs. Clayton came 
in with the good news that her husband was much better, and 
seemed thoroughly conscious again, though still unable to speak. 
Mr. Raymond told her briefly his suspicions, and the ground for 
them. His name was not entirely unknown to her ; and she put 
such confidence in what he said, that it was decided that he 
should see Mr. Clayton, even in his weak condition. 



BEING HEROES. 2 1 

Scott went with them to the sick-room, where, very simply 
and calmly, Richard Raymond reported all that he knew. 

" You must not think me an adventurer," said he, " urged 
on by any thought of the reward that is offered. I have an 
independent fortune ; and until I know that I am right, at least, 
I wish to pay my own expenses. You can move your left hand, 
I see ; and if, when you assent to what I say, you will lift it from 
the pillow, it will be all that is necessary. I can say in a few 
words all that I know, and I trust you will not let it excite you. 
I have thought that your cashier, Roderick Dennett, might 
know something about Paul." 

An eager flush for an instant tinged the pale cheeks, and 
the hand was instantly lifted. It was evident to all that there 
was no doubt in Mr. Clayton's mind that it was Roderick 
Dennett. Mr. Raymond continued, — 

" I knew the man in America when he was a boy. I knew 
him for ten years in India. I think that he left New York with 
the child, on the Anchor Line, for India, on the i ith of August. 
If you will permit me, I will start at once for India; and I am 
sure, that, sooner or later, I shall know all about your son." 

Again the trembling hand was lifted from the pillow. 

" Two things are absolutely necessary : my suspicions must 
be kept a secret with you here, or he might easily hear and 
baffle every endeavor ; and I must have some one with me 
who could instantly recognize the little boy through any dis- 
guise that might be put upon him, — some one who has known 
him very well at home." 

A shadow passed over the sick man's face. There was a 
momentary silence in the room. Richard Raymond did not 
look at Scott ; but he knew the thoughts he was thinking, and 
he felt sure that the boy who wanted to be a hero would come 
to his aid. 



22 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



A moment later Scott knelt by his father's side, and earnest- 
ly whispered, — 

" Father, let me go with him, and bring back brother Paul." 

It was a terri- 
ble struggle. Mrs. 
Clayton, with one 
arm about her son, 
knelt weeping by 
the bed. For a 
moment it seemed 
too much, and 
Richard thought 
that Mr. Clayton 
was again wander- 
ing in his mind ; 
but the left hand 
trembled on the 
pillow, and then 
slowly rose. Scott 
seized it, but 
gently and rever- 
ently, and pressed 
it to his lips. 

Bess was left 
to love little Kit- 
tie, and be the 
ministering angel 
in the sick-room. In the long, weary days that followed, 
when the house seemed so still and deserted that had been so 
bright before, her one great duty was a thing that seemed im- 
possible to perform, — to keep a happy face to cheer her father; 




BESS AND HER PET. 



BEING HEROES. 23 

and sometimes thoughts would come that were too much even 
for the bravest httle heart ; and with her pet canary on her 
shoulder chirping, and trying to kiss her, and seeming to do his 
very best to express his sympathy, she would go to the window 
to hide from her father the tears that would well up from the 
full fountain. And there she would think over again all the 
little incidents of that last half-hour when they were all to- 
gether, when they stole away from the rest of the children to 
break their wishbones on that sacred birthday night. 

" Perhaps little Paul is having his wish," she would sob ; 
" and surely Scott will have his. Oh, if I were only a man, I 
would be a hero too, and help find little Paul ! " 

Brave little Bess ! She never thought that she was the 
greatest hero of them all, and performing the very hardest duty 
and the noblest work. But so it is ; and those who are real 
heroes are oftener those who do not know it than those who 
do. 




IN THE BAZAAB. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 25 




CHAPTER IV. 

PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 

BRANCH road was being completed on one of the 
great Indian railways. Among the engineers was a 
half-caste. His face was dark and wild. He dressed 
in European style, but his clothes were ragged and 
vile. He smoked a pipe, instead of a Jiookah, or hubble- 
bubble, such as the natives used. His hut was like a Euro- 
pean hovel, more than a native house. He kept a huge 
English mastiff, and was very proud of the fact that he was 
not wholly a Hindu. He was foreman over five hundred 
coolies, who were slowly accomplishing the construction of the 
road. A fiercer man was not to be found ; and, as the Gov- 
ernment usually upheld its subordinates, the half-caste foreman 
was feared, above even their gods, by the poor cooly men and 
women who worked on his division of the road : hence he was 
all the more valuable as a foreman. So his employers thought. 
No one dared venture very near his hut, but left him to 
his own doings, undisturbed by prying eyes, whenever he 
chose to remain at home ; for the mastiff was even fiercer 
than his master. He lived with a half-caste sister, but little 
more agreeable than himself, and with his old Hindu mother. 
She was a witch now, and made a fortune for herself in 
telling the fortunes of others, while she made every one 
shudder who ever came within the charmed line of her shadow. 
Her eyes were sharp, very sharp ; and the eyebrows grew in 



26 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

bristles over them. Her forehead receded, only touched by 
straggling locks of draggling white hair. Her nose was hooked 
and long ; and, as all her teeth were gone, her lips fell in. 
Her chin was hooked and long, and over her mouth it almost 
touched her nose. On her chin grew a coarse bristling beard, 
that stood out an inch and more, like the quills on a por- 
cupine. Many were the reports, among the poor workers on 
the road, that this foreman and his witch of a mother were 
very rich, — that they had gold and silver buried in many a 
secret spot in India. But every one knew that in all India 
there was no one more ready to do any thing, no matter what 
it was, to make more money. It was for that reason that 
the old woman made herself so unutterably horrible to look 
at, and went about as a witch and a fortune-teller. When 
her two children were born, she was one of the most beau- 
tiful dancing-girls in the land ; but now the beauty was gone, 
and she turned the scales, and still made a good living, only 
it was out of her ugliness. 

For over a month there had been another member in the 
little family, — not a demon, like the rest, but a strange little 
being, as unlike them as sunshine and night, with a deli- 
cate little body, and a pale little face, and large blue eyes, 
and long brown and curling hair ; with a skin as fair as the 
cream lily, and clothes as ragged as those of the half-caste. 

It was little Paul Clayton ; though who Paul Clayton was, 
the little fellow with blue eyes and brown hair could not have 
told. He did not remember any such child as Paul Clayton. 
He did not remember such a place as Beverly. He had only 
a very strange feeling, that grew stronger every day, that all 
was not just right, that the people about him were not 
true, and that he was not just what they told him. He had 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 



27 



been very ill : he knew that ; and every thing seemed so dif- 
ferent from the pictures he remembered, as though they were 
the wandering dreams that had then flitted through his head, 
that he could not tell now whether any thing that he seemed 
to remember was real, or only some part of those dreams. He 
even supposed he had forgotten how to talk. His thoughts 
seemed to come in real words ; but they were so confused, 
that he could not put them straight, and, when he spoke aloud, 
it was not in the same way that he thought. In reality, he 
was speaking in Hindustani, and thinking in English, and 
doing neither one perfectly. 

Many a time, as he sat silently on the floor of the hut, — 
the only real thing that he was at all sure of, — he would 
try to grasp something that was only half-tangible in his 
mind, and come at last to the conclusion that he was still in 
that strange dream from which they told him he had wak- 
ened, and he would try to shake himself and wake himself, 
to find out where he really was, and what he was. 

All the conversation that Paul heard was in Hindustani : 
it sounded strange to him, yet he generally understood what 
was said ; and it seemed as though he had always heard it, 
yet as though he had never heard it before in his life. 
Every thing was so strange, so unreal, that, in a sort of 
stupor, day after day went by, till, in despair, he at last gave 
up trying to understand the half-idea of something very happy 
and pleasant, and so different from any thing about him, 
that ever and again would seem to come like a shadow 
before him, and then vanish as he turned to look at it. 
He did not remember how Roderick Dennett had worked for 
over five weeks, on the steamer, to teach him to speak Hin- 
dustani. He did not remember Roderick Dennett at all, 



28 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

or the steamer, except as a part of that dream that he had 
during his sickness, when he had seemed to be something 
beside the beggar-boy, who would have starved to death 
over and over again had it not been for the kindness of the 
old Hindu woman, and her son and daughter. 

That was what they told him ; and, as he had nothing else 
to believe, he tried to believe them. And he tried to be 
grateful, and not shudder and tremble every time they came 
near him. He longed for some one whom he could love, to 
whom he could fly for safety ; but he looked and thought 
and wondered in vain. There was no one, absolutely no 
one, to whom he could turn. It was only one of the fancies 
of his dream that seemed to speak to him of some one. 
Every time he slept he dreamed it over again, and every 
time he woke he became more sure that it was only a dream ; 
but there was just one thing that drew the past back to a 
reality, in spite of every thing : it was his long brown hair. 
It was never combed now, and lay in a tangled mat on his 
head ; but, when a stray curl fell over his forehead and eyes, 
he seemed to see that something more clearly. He seemed 
to feel a loving hand — a hand as white as his own — caress- 
ing the little curl ; and over and over again he would pull a 
lock down over his forehead, and laugh with himself as he 
looked at it, and felt so happy when his little heart was 
thrilled by the touch of that vanished hand. 

The old witch caught him in this way more than once>; 
and it was against her liking to see any one laughing. 
Being herself deprived of all that she had once considered 
happiness, she was bent on depriving every one else in the 
same way, and determined to make that hair so short that 
the boy could not see it. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 29 

She called him outdoors, and seated herself on a rough 
stool. This in itself was an awkward thing for her to do, for, 
like all Hindu women, she was accustomed to sit on the 
floor ; but she wanted to reach the boy's head, and be in a 
position to carry her point, in case of struggle. 

No sooner was she well seated, with little Paul before 
her, than she made a dive for his head, and, grasping a 
handful of his hair roughly with her left hand, flourished a 
long pair of shears in the other, and, with a fiendish grin, 
said, — 

" Now, then ! we'll have this off before you have a chance 
to laugh yourself dead through it." 

With a shriek of fear, Paul seized the little lock that fell 
over his eyes, and passionately clung to it with trembling 
hands. 

The old hag only struck him over the knuckles, and, with 
a hollow laugh, began her work. Zip, zip, zip ! went those 
iron shears, pulling his hair at every cut, and each time 
wringing a cry from his very heart. And all the time the 
little hands were clasped more closely over that sacred lock. 
The back hair was almost gone, and in a moment more there 
would have been a struggle over the rest, when round the 
corner came the half-caste foreman, his pipe in his mouth, 
and his pants rolled up to his thighs. 

Paul had had very little to do with him, and had little 
hope of mercy from him ; still he was determined that that 
lock of hair, through which he could see the picture that 
seemed so real, of a happiness that now he could not even 
fully comprehend, should never be torn from him if any thing 
could prevent it. 

A defiant fire flashed from his blue eyes as he looked up 



30 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



at the half-caste foreman, but they fell again to the ground ; 
and poor little Paul began to tremble, for a fiercer face few- 
have ever seen or imagined. The eyes started from their 

sockets, the teeth 
shone fiendishly 
white through the 
black lips and 
beard. 

"What are you 
at, withered hag ? " 
he cried furiously. 

" At my trade. 
The hair's worth a 
pound in the mar- 
ket," she replied, 
though she loosed 
her rude grasp ; 
and Paul gave a 
sigh of relief, but 
did not drop the 
sacred little lock. 

"Haven't I 
sworn to the hairs 
of his head ? " he 
asked. 

" They'll grow 
again fast enough," 
replied the old woman. And again she laid her hand on 
Paul's hair, when her son darted forward. 

" Drop it ! " he exclaimed ; and instantly the withered hand 
fell again. 




PAUL AND THE HAG. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 



31 



*' You're in a good mood to-day," she returned with a 
sneer. " I'll give my hairy chin but you've lost the worth 
of your pipe full of tobacco at some game or other." 

" That I have," he replied. "There are men on the track of 
the kid there. They are already in Bombay. They have an eye, 
along the new line, for Dennett's old engineering friends." 

" Ugh ! " exclaimed the old woman, springing to her feet, 
and brushing the hair she was to sell for a pound in the 
market on to the earth, where she fiercely trod on it with her 
foot. ** May their mouths be filled with dirt ! " she cried. 
" May they be defiled, and the mothers that bore them ! 
May the worms eat them, and the beggars spit upon their 
beards ! " 

" Che, che ! " said the foreman fiercely. " Your curses 
are all very well to frighten these nunnies about here ; but 
don't think that your tongue will drive off the English offi- 
cers, if they come looking for the kid." 

** Come here?" the old woman howled. "The wind will 
be in their bones before they see the second wall. May their 
eyes blister, and their tongues rot in their mouths ! Never, 
never ! Curse the kid ! Never shall they come into this 
palace of" — 

" Che, che ! Keep your vile tongue to the beggars about 
you. I've a better plan. If I go down, Dennett goes with 
me," muttered the foreman. " He'll know it before dark to- 
night. And, if he kicks and runs his luck, I'll show myself, 
and offer to redeem the boy for a good ransom." 

The old woman began to chuckle way down in her throat ; 
and Paul looked up suddenly, thinking she must be ill. 
She was only laughing. She turned upon him as though she 
had forgotten him. 



32 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Did you take in what that beast of a brute said to 
me?" she asked fiercely. 

Paul started and trembled. He had not exactly taken in 
what had been said, though he had comprehended that in 
some way it referred to him, and it seemed to open his eyes 
a little to what was going on ; though how, or what it really 
was that he began to comprehend, he could not tell. He 
had no idea of telling the old hag a lie, for instinctively 
a lie would have been impossible to him; but in utter fear 
and misery he looked at her with a bewildered stare, and 
shook his head. 

" Guzzle the kid with your fury, and scare him out o' his 
wits, as though 'twould bring the truth out o' him ! " shouted 
the half-caste. " But no fear : he's idiotic as an ape. Den- 
nett took his senses away for everlasting, I'm thinking, in 
that long pull he gave him with opium, and the like." 

"How is it we're to get rid of him for the time?" asked 
the old woman. 

" Dhondaram will take him," replied the foreman, grinning. 
" I gave him a hundred rupees this morning, and promised 
him as much more when the kid was well placed. I've sent 
to Dennett for fifty, for doing the same thing." 

" You're well for a turn, well for a turn," muttered the 
old woman. 

" A cursed compliment. I came by it honestly," he replied, 
lighting his pipe again, " But do you put on the kid's good 
clothes, — not the dashedest ones in the box, but common 
good, — and make a bundle of some more. Don't you go to 
skimming the chest, and putting the cream under your own 
straw pile, — for, mind you, Dennett's sharper'n the sharpest, 
and he'd know, — but give the bundle and the kid to -sister, 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. %% 

when she goes to show her pretty face in the bazaar to-night. 
On the Boomal corner, by the well, and at the old Trimmal's 
fruit-booth, she'll see Dhondaram in holy contemplation. Let 
her send the kid to get some fruit, leave the bundle at 
Dhondaram's feet, and scatter herself so fine through that 
bazaar that there'll be no finding her." 

" But suppose the young'n won't leave her," muttered the 
old woman as she turned toward the hut. 

The half-caste gave a hoarse laugh, and shouted, " Never 
you fear ! If he's got sconce enough to draw breath when 
he can't help it, he'll know better than to stick to you or 
yours any longer'n he's obliged to." 

The old woman went into the house. The half-caste sat 
down upon the stool. He always sat upon a stool ; for he 
would not have any one think he was a Hindu, and could 
sit upon the ground. He took the little trembling, half- 
stupefied boy on his knee, and almost tenderly he asked, — 

"Well, my lad, would you like to go away?" 

Paul nodded. He had comprehended much more than 
they thought, and, as the foreman had said, was not anxious 
to remain longer where he was. Any thing would be better 
than that ; and yet he did not fully understand what it was 
to go away. 

The rough man stroked his head for a moment ; then, with 
a sigh, he set him down, and went into the hut, from which 
the old woman soon issued, ready to dress the boy as her 
son had directed. 

It was a strange sensation that came over Paul as he put 
on the pretty and clean suit of boy's clothes. It was like 
the breaking out of the sunshine on an April evening, when, 
just before it sets, the sun pierces the rich auburn clouds that 



34 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

have been pouring down rain all day long. You may be in 
the house where you cannot see the sunshine ; yet you know 
instinctively that the storm has broken, and that the cheerful 
light is again brightening every thing, and you feel happier 
for it. You cannot help it. Paul could not tell what made 
him happy. He could not tell why the pretty clothes were 
so much more real to him than the rags had been. He 
could not tell any thing, but that he was happier. He knew 
he was happier ; but he dared not laugh, lest the old woman 
should take them away again. He thought of the name 
" Dhondaram." It was some one who was to take care of 
him ; and instinctively he associated the new clothes and the 
delightful memories that they seemed to awaken, and the 
happiness in his heart, all with that name, and the man who 
bore it ; and already he began to long for the time to come 
when he was to start for the bazaar with the foreman's sister. 
Then he wondered what the bazaar was. He had never been 
a dozen rods from that hut in his life, so far as he knew. 
But he did not care what it all looked like, if Dhondaram 
were only there. 

The moon was already shining when the sun set ; and he 
was soon taken by the young woman, and led away. 

Every thing was very new to Paul in the busy streets 
that they soon reached, and the old ways down which they 
wandered ; and yet he seemed to half-remember having seen 
it all before. He wondered if he were still dreaming. 

The men did not wear hats and clothes, like the foreman ; 
but many of them were naked to the waist, at least, and had 
only a light strip of cloth twisted about their legs as low down 
as the knees. Some had loose cloaks hanging over their 
shoulders, bound round the waist by a girdle, and falling in 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 35 

a sort of skirt over the legs to the knees. They all wore 
cloth twisted in different shapes about their heads, instead 
of hats. 

The women were dressed in all sorts of fashions : some 
had light shawls all over them, with only one eye showing 
between the folds ; and some were almost naked. Many of 
them had silver rings on their ankles, and many more on 
their arms. Some had rings in their noses, and large rings 
in their ears ; and they all had silver rings all over their 
fingers and thumbs and toes, and colored glass rings on 
their arms. 

Long before Paul began to grow tired, they had reached 
a corner by a well, and a half-naked native sitting behind 
some baskets filled with fruit. Right at the corner a very tall 
man was standing, all absorbed in thought. The young woman 
who was leading Paul stopped for an instant, and, without 
looking at the man, laid the bundle down at his feet, and 
went on a little way. Instinctively Paul seemed to know 
what it meant. He could not explain it, for the picture, more 
than the words, had been left upon his mind ; but he was 
happier than he ever remembered having been before, and 
was not at all surprised when the woman told him to go to 
the fruit-vender, and ask him the price of some melons beside 
him. 

Paul hesitated an instant at the last moment. It was 
breaking away from all that he knew any thing about in the 
world. He understood perfectly that he was not coming 
back again, and that he was to go away with the solemn 
man standing at the corner. He turned, and looked at him. 
There was something almost gentle in his face. It was very 
different, at least, from the faces that he already knew ; and 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



then the new clothes, and all the happiness ! Little Paul left 
the woman, as she had bidden him ; but, instead of going 
and asking the price of the melons, he went straight to the 




CfiONDARAM. 



side of the tall Hindu, and, extending his little white hand, 

he said, in broken Hindustani, — 

" Here I am, Dhondaram, to go a^\ay with you." 

The muni started, frowned for an instant, and looked down 

at the tiny figure. But Paul had not been mistaken : little 

hearts rarely are in this world. No sooner did the muni's 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 37 

black eyes rest on the large blue ones turned up to him, 
and on the gold-brown hair, and the pale cheeks, and litde 
extended hand, than the frown melted, and all that gentle- 
ness that Paul had detected came back again. 

Dhondaram's plans for taking the boy were thoroughly 
turned upside down by Paul's greeting. It was that that had 
caused the frown ; but, making the best of matters as they 
were, he took the little hand in his, and, picking up the 
bundle, said, — 

" Very well. We will go." And they started off together. 

For a while Dhondaram seemed to take no more notice 
of Paul. He almost thought he had forgotten him, and clung 
a little closer to his hand. The motion attracted the muni's 
attention ; and, looking down, he said almost gently, — 

"You are tired. I will carry you." 

Paul did not understand precisely what he meant ; but 
when the strong arm was about him, and he was lifted to 
the broad shoulder, he felt happier and safer, and put one 
arm around the muni's neck, — an action that pleased him 
much more than the gold he received from the half-caste. 

They turned, very soon, out of the lighted street and into 
darker alleys ; and Paul clung the closer to Dhondaram. He 
walked on now with rapid strides, and very soon approached 
a low doorway, where three women, dressed almost like men, 
were sitting and talking. They wore jewels ; but they were 
evidently working- women, for two of them had baskets, in 
which they had been carrying something. 

" Fie on you, daughters of Kali ! to be out here hatching 
mischief at this hour. Go to your homes, and let Gunga 
come in and get me some supper," said Dhondaram. 

" Gunga can go, if she will, at the beck of a monster like 



38 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

you, who knows neither Kali nor vSiva, and worships but 
Krishna," retorted one of the women ; " but, as for us, we 
will neither leave this spot for you, nor a host just like you." 

But Gunga rose ; and, turning to the others with a laugh, 
she said, — 

'* Good-night till the morning, we'll meet in the temple ; " 
and followed Dhondaram. 

" Gunga knows who turns her ghi to gold," muttered 
one of the women so loud that all could hear ; but Gunga 
made no reply, and soon had conducted the muni to a little 
room that she occupied, with screens here and there, dividing 
the cooking and sleeping apartments. 

"What have you on your back?" asked Gunga, as she 
lighted a little wick, floating in oil in a cocoanut-shell, and 
turned to prepare some supper. 

" A feringhi," replied Dhondaram. 

" A feringhi ! " she exclaimed, and turned suddenly to 
look at little Paul, who now rested on the muni's knee, as 
he sat on the floor. But a sweet smile broke over Gunga's 
face as she looked down into the tired blue eyes. She gently 
touched the soft cheek ; and then, with a quizzical smile at 
Dhondaram, she said, " There must be a gold lining here, or 
the holy Dhondaram would be defiled." 

" It is only a child," muttered Dhondaram, " and none 
of your business at the best. Get us some supper, and give 
us a bed for the night. Did ever you hear of a Feringhi 
Dennett? Roderick Dennett? Well, if ever you do, keep 
your eye on him, Gunga, and send me word, and till then 
keep your peace." 

"That I will, as I have often done for you before," said 
Gunga merrily ; and she began to sing a temple-song as she 






PI 










DATTGHTERS OF KALI. 



40 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

moved about behind one of the screens : for she was a sort 
of priestess in a Hindu temple, — a murh girl, — whose duty 
it was to dance and sing during a part of the service, and 
in her basket she had carried flowers to throw about the 
altar. 

The food which Gunga set before them was of the very 
simplest kind, — only 'a dry meal-cake and cups of milk; 
but Paul was hungry, and thought it far better than any thing 
he had ever before tasted. On the whole, he was well sat- 
isfied with the change, and would not have gone back again 
for any thing. 

After supper Gunga threw a coarse mat on the floor ; and 
turning half toward Paul, whose eyes were very heavy, she 
said, — 

" The little feringhi can have a mat yonder, between me 
and my little sister Prita, who is already sound asleep, if he 
would like it. It is a softer, better place than this." 

Paul looked at Dhondaram, who bowed his head in 
assent ; then he extended his arms to Gunga, who stood ready 
to take him upon her shoulder, as though he were light as a 
feather, though she herself seemed to him but a litde girl. 
She kissed his cheek softly, as she carried him behind another 
screen, and there laid him carefully upon a rug on the floor, 
giving him her arm for a pillow, where he fell asleep before 
he had hardly time to realize how happy and comfortable he 
was. 

Before daylight he was awakened by the little sister Prita, 
who was kneeling beside him, kissing his hand. 

"You are a very pretty little Ingrij," she said. "Can you 
understand what I say?" 

Paul rubbed his eyes, and answered, "Yes." 



42 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Where did you learn to talk like me ? " asked the girl. 

Paul wondered where, and rubbed his eyes again ; for It 
suddenly seemed to him that he had not always talked like 
that. 

" You must get up, and let me wash you, and comb your 
hair ; for you must eat breakfast soon, and go away," she 
added sadly. 

" I don't want to go away," sobbed Paul. But he got up ; 
and the little girl began to bathe him as he had never been 
bathed before, so far as he could remember. She gathered 
up all the mats, and left only the smooth stone floor. Then 
she brought a jug of water, somewhat like a ku/a, only 
larger, and, after taking off his clothes, began turning it over 
him, a little at a time, and rubbing him gently with her soft 
hand. Then she wiped him, rubbed his body with something 
that smelled so nice he thought he would like to drink it, 
and then dressed him, and carefully combed his hair. 

" I'm very sure I don't want to have you go," she said ; 
" but we must do as Dhondaram says, and perhaps he will 
bring you back again. If I were only a little older, so that 
I could go to the temple too, it would be better. But 
Dhondaram is very kind. He will never hurt you. Were 
you born in England ? How long have you been in India ? " 

Little Prita chatted on, because Paul did not seem in- 
clined to answer; and she forgot one question as soon as 
she had put it, and began another. But Paul did not forget 
them. They set him thinking, and thinking so hard that he 
had no time to answer. It had never occurred to him that 
he must have been born somewhere; and the more he won- 
dered, the more confused he became. But the thinking was 
sure to amount to somethinsf in time. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 43 

They had rice and milk for breakfast ; and, comforted by 
Dhondaram's promise that he should surely come back again, 
Paul once more mounted the broad shoulder, and left the little 
room and the low arched doorway, and, after a short walk, 
came out upon a broad river. 

There were very few people to be seen till they came out 
upon the river-bank ; for it was only the gray dusk before 
dawning, and the sky in the east was just turning red for 
the sunrise. Dhondaram wanted to get away without at- 
tracting attention, for he realized that he had undertaken a 
very difficult task. He could get the best of any Hindu 
or Mussulman that lived. He had often tried it, and always 
succeeded. The half-caste foreman had selected him to help 
him out of his difficulty, as the man of all men who was 
able to do it. But to carry his point against the English 
police, when to do it he had got to keep a little white boy 
out of their hands, was quite another undertaking. It had 
taken more than a hundred rupees from the foreman to induce 
Dhondaram to attempt it. The foreman had not dared to tell 
his mother it had cost him over a thousand rupees to get 
out of the fraud into which Roderick Dennett had drawn him. 
And he himself was ignorant of the fact that it was not at 
all his gift of a thousand rupees, and promise of as much 
more, but something entirely outside of that, that had induced 
the Hindu muni, Dhondaram, to undertake the difficult en- 
gagement. 

There was a score of boatmen on the river-bank when 
they reached it. Some were cooking their breakfast, some 
eating it. All were preparing for a fresh start, for boatmen 
will not sail at night in India unless it is absolutely necessary. 
There are several reasons for it. The Hindu rivers are 



44 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

very hard to navigate, and the Hindus very superstitious. 
Beside this, they are never in a hurry. If time and tide 
will not wait for them, they are satisfied to let time and tide go 
on without them. 

Paul was a little frightened at the sight of the rugged, 
almost naked boatmen, with their smoothly shaven heads, 
where only a little tuft of hair was left on the very top. 
That tuft was never cut at all, but twisted up in a little knot. 
They were singing and shouting and praying and eating and 
cooking in a terrible confusion ; but when Paul looked down 
at the man upon whose shoulder he sat, to find him taller 
and stronger than any of them, and when he saw how those 
rough boatmen knelt and touched their foreheads to the 
ground as he and the muni passed them, he lost his fear, 
and only realized a still greater confidence in Dhondaram. 

** What is this water ? " Paul asked, as Dhondaram was 
preparing to take him on to a boat that seemed to be ready 
for them. 

"It is the sacred Ganges," replied the muni solemnly, set- 
ting Paul down on the bank for a moment, and making an 
humble obeisance to the river. " It flows directly out of the 
mouth of the incomprehensible Bramha," he added ; and Paul 
drew a long breath, and tried to understand it. 

The sun was just rising as they passed the city proper, 
at the outskirts of which they had embarked. The boat in 
which they sailed was a curious contrivance. Paul was sure 
he had never seen a boat before ; yet as they pushed off 
from shore, and began to rise and fall on the little waves, 
there was something so natural, that again and again he 
looked out of the little window and over the dancing ripples, 
as though he could almost see something there, almost hear 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 



45 



some one speak to him, almost discover something that he 
had begun very seriously to long to know. 

There was one mast to their boat, and a huge triangular 
sail attached to it. There was a little house with curious 
doors and windows in the stern ; and there they were destined 
to eat and sleep for 
many days, while 
slowly making their 
way up the Gan- 
ges and one of its 
branches, stopping 
every night by the 
bank till the morn- 
ing. 

As they passed 
along the border 
of the city, the 
boats became very 
numerous in the 
river ; and Dhon- 
daram drew the 
blinds, or bamboo 
awnings, before the 
window where Paul 
sat. It did not 
prevent his looking out, however. There were beautiful 
towers rising up almost from the water's edge. But, when 
they had passed the city, they seemed onc<; more to sink 
into the mists, that there had not fully risen from the river. 
Once more Dhondaram opened the bamboo blinds ; and, 
leaning out of the window, Paul watched the water splash' 




A CDHIO0S CONTRIVANCE. 



46 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



ing against the boat, till suddenly his attention was drawn 
to strange figures along the bank, just discernible in the 
mists, moving slowly up and down, or lying still in hideous 
piles. 




CSOCODILES. 



"What are they? ".he asked, eagerly pointing toward the 
shore. 

"Crocodiles," muttered Dhondaram; and, with a peculiar 
smile, he added, "They are very sacred animals. We make 
sacrifices to them ; and sometimes little children are thrown 
into the water, for those crocodiles to eat them up." 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 47 

Paul started, turned pale, trembled a little, and looked 
up into Dhondaram's face. The muni looked quietly into 
the blue eyes for an instant ; then, with scarcely a perceptible 
change of countenance, he lifted his hand, and stroked the 
golden-brown hair. Paul nestled closer to him. He was not 
afraid of being thrown to the crocodiles. Oh, no! — not so 
lo^g as Dhondaram was near. 



48 OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 




CHAPTER V. 

WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER, AND A HINDU FEAST. 

P the sacred Ganges and one of its great tributaries 
they sailed ; and it seemed to Paul that they must 
be going a long way off from everywhere, especially 
from the city where the little Gunga and her tiny 
sister Prita lived. He did not know the name of it : but 
he grew brighter and clearer in his mind each day, and 
comprehended more of what he saw ; and, to his own sur- 
prise, he seemed to understand a great many new things 
without asking. He had learned, too, the way to the stern 
heart of the muni, and had not the least fear of Dhondaram. 
When he awoke in the morning, and found him out on the 
river-bank, engaged in a sort of fierce devotion, his eyes 
flashing, his body writhing about in terrible contortions, while 
he placed fire in his open palms, and cut his flesh with little 
knives, Paul would go right up to him, and, putting his arms 
fearlessly about his neck, would kiss him, and cry, "Stop, 
stop ! don't do that ! " while the boatmen, who would as soon 
have had a hand cut off as to have disturbed him, would 
look on in horror, till they found that the frown disappeared, 
instead of gathering deeper on the dark brow of Dhon- 
daram, and that, taking the child in his arms, he would go 
back to the boat, to wait till some other time to finish his 
terrible devotions. 

The water of the river was very yellow with mud as they 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 49 

went up, and every day they passed bodies of dead animals 
that were floating down ; yet at every Httle village that they 
passed, and at every encampment, there were many people 
bathing in the water, especially at sunrise in the morning. 
And while they bathed they prayed, and threw the water over 




■ THEY ARE COMING TO BATHE THE IDOL." 



their faces. "They think it sacred. They believe they are 
washing their sins away," said Dhondaram. 

One morning, just after they had started for the day, they 
heard a loud noise of singing and shouting on the banks, 
beyond a litde jungle ahead of them. Dhondaram drew 
the awnines over the windows, and sat on the floor by the 
side of Paul. Soon they passed the cause of the noise. Ir? 



50 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 



the lead was a band of girls, whirling about each other, sing- 
ing and dancing, with soft, white cloth wound gracefully about 
them, and garlands of flowers upon their necks and round 
their waists. Behind them came Bramhan priests, shouting, 
and waving heavy wands in the air, and bearing an image 
on a litter. 

"What is the matter, Dhondaram?" asked Paul, alarmed 
more at the serious face of his protector than at any danger 
he could conceive of from the happy throng upon the bank. 

" They are bringing the god of the temple down, to bathe 
it in the Ganges. If the boatmen say I am a muni, they will 
stop us, and I shall have to help them. But we must not 
stop : we cannot. If I stop, I shall tell the boatmen to go 
on with you." 

Paul caught Dhondaram's hand, and shook his head. The 
muni smiled, and continued, — 

** You shall not fear, for it will only be for an hour. I 
shall hurry up the river, and meet you. But they will not 
stop us," he added, as the boat was pulled past the point 
where the murlis, or dancing-girls, were approaching the 
river, and no one paid it any attention. 

They made slow progress up the river, especially when 
the wind was against them, so that they could not use the 
sail, or the current ran fast. Then the boatmen were 
obliged to take the oars, which they did not fancy, and some- 
times even to take a long rope, and go on shore with it, 
walking along the bank, and pulling the boat after them, which 
they disliked still more. And the worst of all was when the 
banks were so covered with jungle, or forest-growth, to the 
very water's edge, that the only way they could do was to 
start on in a little boat with the rope, and, fastening it to a 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



51 



tree as far ahead as was possible, draw the large boat up to 
it, and then go on again. 

When they came to anchor at night, Paul would run and 
play upon the sand, while the boatmen built a fire, and Dhon- 
daram, with his own hands, prepared the supper. Like the 
breakfast, it consisted of a simple preparation of rice, made 
hot with something like mustard, that they called curry, pre- 
pared from several kinds of green leaves and spices mashed, 
and ground to a soft pulp between two stones. With this 
they had fruit, — bananas, plantain, dates, tamarinds, pome- 
granates, and, best of all, sweet limes as large as oranges, 
of which Paul was very fond. He made an exclamation of 
delight the first time that he tasted them, and from that day 
there was always a bamboo tray of sweet limes lying on the 
floor of the little cabin. 

When there was a jungle near their stopping-place, Dhon- 
daram always warned Paul not to go near it ; and even Paul 
noticed, that, wherever he went, and no matter what the tall, 
grim muni was doing, he never looked back without finding 
his two piercing black eyes fixed upon him. The old witch 
used to watch him in that way, and it made him tremble ; but 
he only felt the safer now, to know that he was not for a 
moment out of the sight of his friend. Richard Raymond 
would have shuddered had he known, Scott would have 
trembled could he have been told, that little Paul was laugh- 
ing in the face of the terrible Dhondaram. 

Once when he had wandered too near to a jungle, Dhon- 
daram hurried toward him, and, catching him in his arms, went 
back to the boat with him. 

"There are ugly tigers in there," he muttered. **You do 
not want to meet one of them." 



5 2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"Why not?" asked Paul. 

"They would kill you," replied the muni. 

"What would that matter?" asked Paul, very little under- 
standing what it was to be killed, or what he was saying, and 
yet half realizing after all. 

The muni looked at him silently for a moment. Then, 
brushing a tear from his eyes, he said huskily, "Your little 
lips have kissed Dhondaram. You neither hate nor fear 

him." 

" No, indeed, I am not afraid of you ! " exclaimed Paul, 
throwing his arms around the muni's neck, and kissing him 
again. " And I shall never be killed while you take care of 

me. 

Dhondaram looked about him hurriedly, to be sure that 
none of the boatmen saw. 

One night they had eaten their supper, and were at 
anchor a little way out in the stream ; for the current was 
slow, and the jungles were close upon the bank. The boat- 
men had usually built fires at night, to keep the wild beasts 
from coming to the water near where they were anchored ; 
but there were villages within sight of the boat to-night, 
and Dhondaram did not want to attract the attention of the 
villagers, who would be sure to come down and make them 
a call. So they only pushed out farther than usual ; and the 
sun went down, and the moon rose, and the boatmen lay 
stretched over the deck, sound asleep. Paul had been asleep, 
but was wakened by Dhondaram, who was praying, and 
fiercely beating himself. Getting up from his mat, Paul went 
to the muni, but had hardly reached his side, when from the 
distant bank there sounded a shrieking whistle. Dhondaram 
started to his feet. He listened intently for a moment. There 



WILD LIFE ON THE RllER. 



53 



was a sharp cracking and swaying of the branches on the 
other side of the river, that there was not a quarter of a 
mile wide. Some large body was forcing its way through at 
no easy pace. Suddenly the muni disappeared in the cabin, 




THE MAD ELEPHANT. 



but re-appeared in a moment, carrying a bundle. Paul had 
not time to ask what it was ; for his eyes were fixed on a 
huge, dingy form that loomed up on the opposite bank. 

" It is only an elephant," said Paul, who had seen them 
carrying burdens along the river-bank. 



c t OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"A mad elephant," muttered Dhondaram, watching- him 
intently. 

"What makes him mad?" asked Paul. 

" I don't know. But he is alone, and a wild elephant 
never goes alone unless he's mad. Ha ! " he exclaimed, as 
the huge elephant seemed to have noticed them, and at once 
dashed into the water, and began to swim rapidly toward the 
boat. 

" Not yet, not yet," muttered Dhondaram, catching Paul 
in his arms, and setting him on his shoulder, while he bal- 
anced the bundle on his head. "It is not written in Dhon- 
daram's forehead that he die at the will of a wild elephant, or 
a tame one either." And with his burden he slipped silently 
over the edge of the boat, away from the approaching animal. 
Fortunately, being able to wade, he moved rapidly toward the 
shore. Wher> the bank was almost gained, and the water not 
more than waist deep, a sudden splash sounded a little way 
up the river; and Paul, whose eyes had been fixed on the 
approaching elephant, turned with a cry of fear to see the 
great glistening jaws of a crocodile opened wide, less than 
ten feet away. But Dhondaram was strong and supple. 
His lithe body sank into the water to the shoulder. Then 
he sprang forward. The lumbering crocodile swung about, 
and his great jaws came together with a resounding click 
that would have made a stronger heart than little Paul's stand 
still. The maddened creature turned about, and opened the 
horrible jaws again ; but Dhondaram had gained on him. 
In a moment more he was bounding along the bank, now 
with a foot in the water where the trees crowded him, 
now flying like the wind on the sand. But the signal had 
been given ; and all up and down the river, with many a 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. ^^ 

grunt and snort, they heard the sleeping crocodiles awaking, 
and swinging their heads back, to open the terrible mouths 
ready to close like a vice on any thing that might fall into 
them. But holding Paul firmly on his shoulder, and the 
bundle on his head, without a sound the Hindu bounded 
on, seeming hardly to touch the earth, resting his foot for an 
instant against the very nose of a crocodile, to be ten feet 
away before the animal could close his glistening rows of 
savage teeth. 

Then there was a terrible splashing and crashing behind 
them ; and, looking back over the moonlit water, Paul could 
see the boat flying into a thousand pieces under the wrath of 
the mad elephant, and hear the cries and groans of the boat- 
men, suddenly aroused from sleep to find themselves doomed 
to death. And the little hands clasped the muni's neck 
more closely, as Paul realized the terror from which he had 
saved him. 

They were well away from the river, and in a broad, open 
plain, before the muni paused, and, looking cautiously about 
him to assure himself that there was no other danger at hand, 
laid his burden tenderly down, and asked, — 

"Has the little feringhi had a pleasant ride?" 

"The poor boat Wallahs! They are all dead," replied 
Paul, thinking of the boatmen. 

"It was written in their foreheads," said Dhondaram in- 
differently, " but not in mine." 

" But if you had staid there you would have been dead 
too," said Paul, with a logic so simple, that the greatest theo- 
logians are only just finding out how full of force it is. 

" But I did not stay," replied the muni. And, after waiting 
a moment to gather strength and breath, he untied the package. 



56 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



which Paul now saw contained his bundle of clothes and a 
bamboo sack of sweet limes. Giving the boy two of the sweet 
limes, he replaced the bundle on his head ; and, taking Paul 
again on his shoulder, he said, — 

" You can eat those to keep you awake when you are 
sleepy. We have a long way to go. We should have reached 




THE LONG ROAD. 



the end of our journey to-morrow night. Now we must reach 
it to-morrow morning instead, for there are two villages that 
we must go past before daylight." 

So they started on ; and all night long the muni kept at a 
steady, rapid pace, never flinching or swerving from the track 
that he seemed to be as sure of as though it were his home. 
Before the sun had risen, they passed the last of the villages 



\ 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



57 



that Dhondaram wanted to avoid. But the people were 
already engaged at the morning worship, and were lying on 
their faces, falling on their knees, beating their foreheads 
to the ground, and crying and howling before a rude little 
temple, where Paul could just discern a hideous image, that 




THE GODDESS KALI. 



reminded him so much of the old witch, that instinctively he 
tried to shrink away from it. 

''What is it?" he asked timidly. 

"The goddess Kali, the wife of the great Siva, — the 
powerful Mother of Destruction. She kills every thing." 

" How do they dare to be so near, and pray to her?" asked 
Paul again. 

" They are praying to her to keep away from them," replied 



58 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

the muni, smiling in a peculiar way, as he pressed a little 
nearer to the jungle to escape observation. " Her hair touches 
the ground behind her. She has three red eyes. Her lips 
and tongue are dripping with blood. She has dead bodies for 
rings in her ears. Once she had only two arms ; but, when her 
husband was in trouble, she sacrificed an arm to save him, and 
now she has four. She is standing on the body of a god, and 
has the head of a mortal in her hand. Her girdle is made of 
the hands she has cut off from the arms of her enemies, and 
her necklace is skulls." 

" I would not pray to her," said Paul with a shiver. 

" You would, if praying would keep her away from you, I 
think," replied Dhondaram. 

"You do not pray to her, do you?" the child asked. 

" There are so many gods, that it is impossible to pray to 
all," said the muni. 

" How many gods are there ? " asked Paul. 

" About three hundred and thirty millions," replied the 
muni, a smile of derision curling his lips again, for all the fact 
that he, too, was among the humble devotees at the altars 
of those innumerable gods. 

"Why don't I pray, Dhondaram?" the boy questioned, 
after vainly trying to gain any idea of how many three hundred 
and thirty millions might be. 

"You are an Ingrij," returned Dhondaram. 

"And what is that?" 

"You were not born in India. You are different." 

"Where was I born?" 

" I do not know," replied the muni almost impatiently. 

" If I had been born here, should I pray as you do ? " 

" No : you are white." 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. ^g 

** Does being white make me different ? " 

" No : being different makes you white." 

•' I wish I were not different. I wish I were like you, 
Dhondaram." 

" But you would not be, if you knew me well. And you 
could not be, for it is not written in your forehead." 

" What is it that is written in your forehead ? " asked Paul, 
rubbing his little white hand over the furrowed brow of the 
dark Hindu. 

" Nothing good, nothing good. There is nothing good 
In Dhondaram," replied the muni with a shudder. 

" There is ! there is ! " cried the boy sharply. " Who wrote 
what is bad ? " 

" The God of Fate." 

'* I will kill him when I am a man ! " said Paul fiercely. 

" Che ! che ! " whispered the muni : " say it softly ; " for, 
although he had smiled in derision, he was yet fearful that 
there might be some evil following such a remark. 

** Are there many people who are white ? " asked Paul. 

"Some," replied the muni briefly; for he had been walking 
hard all night, and was not only tired, but very anxious. Little 
Paul did not dream how he, sitting so comfortably on that 
broad shoulder, was making the strong man tremble. 

They turned now along the river-bank ; and, in the gray 
mists that lay there just before morning, they saw little flicker- 
ing lamps floating down the stream. 

"What are they, Dhondaram?" cried Paul. "They seem 
like " — Paul almost said, " Fourth of July." It was on the very 
tip of his tongue ; and yet, when he stopped and wondered 
what it was that he was about to say, he could not remember. 
Some happy thought had flashed before his mind : he was sure 



6o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

of it. He laughed even then under the bright influence ; but 
what it was, was Hke all the rest, — hidden just beyond his 
reach. " It must have been some dream," he said to himself, 
as Dhondaram replied, — 

"Those lamps are offerings to the river, by the women of 
the city just above. They are little wicks floating in oil, in 
wooden boats." 

But Paul cared less about the boats than the problem he 
was solving concerning himself. And as they turned down a 
broad avenue lined with magnificent palms, and with beautiful 
flowers in an endless profusion everywhere, he began again, — 

"Are there many white people, Dhondaram?" 

" A few," replied the muni, hardly knowing what he said ; 
for the city was yet two miles ahead, and the sun was almost 
rising. 

" I never" — Paul hesitated. He was about to say that he 
never had seen any, when it suddenly seemed to him as though 
he had seen many. " Do they live far from here? " he asked. 

"White people live everywhere," said Dhondaram with 
a frown ; for far in the distance he saw several people coming 
down the way from the city. And the domes and minarets 
were now plainly visible through the trees, a half-mile away. 
He began to realize, that, after all his struggle, it would be 
impossible to get into the gate, and down the by-ways, where 
he knew many a hiding-place, without attracting attention to 
the little boy upon his shoulder. Paul's questions about 
white people added to this fear ; for, in truth, he knew that 
there were many white people living in the city. 

Just then an owl gave a farewell hoot to the dying night, 
from his perch in a banyan-tree not far away, and an ass brayed 
in the field to the left. They were two omens that were the 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 6i 

worst that could have been given to the anxious Hindu ; and 
while he waited for a moment, wondering if he had better 
disregard them and go on, a wild hare ran across the road in 
front of him. Had the voice of God sounded, telling him in 
so many words to go no farther with the child, he could not 
have been more sure. 

"What are you waiting for?" asked Paul. 

"I am thinking you must be tired," Dhondaram replied. 
" You have been riding all night. You shall not go into the 
city till evening. You shall stop at this house here and sleep, 
while I go in and find a good friend, where we will live for the 
present." 

"I would rather go with you, Dhondaram!" exclaimed 
Paul, clinging to the muni's neck, and beginning to sob ; 
for he was very tired and sleepy, though he did not realize 
it. 

" I shall not go away at once, and I shall be back before 
long for you," said Dhondaram, turning boldly up toward a 
little hut that lay half hidden in the verdant jungle that bor- 
dered on the road. 

It was a beautiful little spot, and at the first sight Paul 
was delighted with the prospect of waiting there. Dhonda- 
ram set him upon the ground, and let him run beside him. 
The house was built in two separate parts. At the left 
stood the working-part, without any front wall, but a sort of 
booth arranged in front, as though the owner sold something 
through the day; and at the right was the sleeping-hut, with 
only one very small door and a very small window. 

Dhondaram approached the working-hut, but it was empty. 
There was nothing on the booth, and only the pots and 
kuja standing behind, and a smouldering fire in a round 



62 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



hole in the centre of the room. The family were evidently 
Hindus, judging from their pots and the arrangements of the 
hut ; and, seeing several empty tobacco bunniahs lying about, 
Dhondaram at once determined that the owner of the hut 
was a tobacconist. 

Knowledge is power. That is the muni's motto ; and, not 




NATIVE HITTS. 



to be wholly without knowledge, and seem too much like a 
stranger, Dhondaram called aloud, — 

"Ha! you biri wallah" (tobacco-dealer), "come out and 
show yourself if you are an honest man." 

A woman's head was thrust a little way out of the door of 
the other hut. 

"Who calls? There's nothing to sell to-day. Go on to 
the festival." But, seeing that it was a muni who spoke, she 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



63 



put her head a Httle farther out, and made an obeisance, put- 
ting her hands to her forehead. The muni returned her 
salaam, and, without waiting for any further introduction, 
said, — 

" Look to what I tell you, mother of an evil-doer. It is ill 
that you bid one of the gods' selected to leave your house, and 
go his way. I want no purchasing from such as you, and I 
will go my way to the festival when it pleases me. Mark what 
I say : it is ill for you that I go without leaving you indebted 
to me for an opportunity, well accepted, to serve the Mother." 

Of all this the stupid woman understood as little as did 
Paul ; but she realized that she had offended a wandering 
muni, which is aot a very safe thing, for the poor at least, to 
do, and she hastened to reply, — 

" Ask what you will of me, and in the name of the Mother 
I will do it, and do it without pay." 

" Do it you will, and do it without pay ; and woe to you 
or any one who would not ! But that it may be the better 
done, if you do well I will pay you well." 

The woman touched her forehead to the ground. The 
muni continued, — 

"This little feringhi who is in my care has the Bramhanical 
blessing. He is weary, and before we enter the city he must 
rest. Give him the best you have, and let him sleep. I will 
lie and rest me in the shop, and later I will come for him." 

" We are not outcasts," said the woman, trembling ; for 
she feared that she should lose caste or defile herself by tak- 
ing the little white boy into her dirty hut. Dhondaram \vas 
instantly angry, or appeared to be. He turned suddenly, and, 
with his back to the woman, he threw dust at her with his 
foot. 



5^ OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Lower than the lowest ! viler than the vilest ! eat dirt and 
be defiled. Go hence a beggar. Thus saith a Bramhan of the 
Bramhans." 

It had the desired effect. The woman fell upon her face 
with a wail. 

" Let him come in. Let the feringhi have all and more 
than all. Come in and find the best, and give it him. Let 
me sit by him and keep ill from him while he sleeps. Let me 
be his slave, but keep thy curse." 

"I'll see how you perform yourself. Come out of the 
house. I will not defile myself by going in till you are out." 

Creeping on her knees, the woman came out of the low 
door ; and, leading Paul by the hand, Dhondaram entered. 
There were only two rooms, and very simple ; but he soon 
prepared a comfortable mat, and, assuring Paul that the woman 
would not dare to do any thing but the very best for him, 
he left him lying on the mat, with no ornament or piece of 
furniture to attract his attention (for there was nothing of the 
sort in the little room), and with several sweet limes to eat 
when he should wake up. The boy was so used to strange 
surroundings, that he hardly paid them any attention ; but 
before the voice of Dhondaram had ceased to sound, in 
conversation with the woman outside, he was fast asleep. 

Creeping in to see that all was well, the old woman crept 
out again to talk over the event with her nearest neighbor. 
There was to be a great festival in the city ; and the neigh- 
bor, owning two bullocks and a cart, was going to carry into 
the city all of his friends who could get on, to participate 
in the very holy festival and merry-making. The old woman's 
son, who kept the tobacco-booth, had already gone to the 
city, and she did not propose to be left out. 



\ 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



Regardless of the promise she had made to the muni, and 
the boy who lay sleeping in her hut, she took the advice of 
her neighbor, and made herself ready to go in the cart. It 
came rattling to her door, with its two noisy wheels and no 
springs, the long pole resting on a sort of crossbar, that, in 
turn, rested on the necks of the two bullocks, just in front 
of a huge hump growing on the fore-shoulders of each, almost 
like the bump on a camel, and effectually doing away with 
the need of a yoke. 

Once more the 
old woman crept in, 
and looked at the 
child. Paul was 
soundly sleeping. 
Then again she crept 
out, got into the cart, 
and was gone. 

It was past noon 
when little Paul 
awoke, rubbed his 
eyes, sat erect, and 
wondered where he was. He had had so many strange 
impressions of late, that it was some time before out of 
them all he resolved the present, and was sure of what 
had happened just before he went to sleep. But there were 
the sweet limes, at least ; and he ate one of them while he 
waited for some one to appear. No one came ; and he got 
up and went out. Every thing was deserted. He called 
Dhondaram, but received no answer. He remembered that 
he had said he should go to the city, and the city was plainly 
in sight. He must be coming back by this time, Paul thought, 




NATIVE CABT. 



66 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and at once made up his mind to go- toward the city, and 
meet him. He put two sweet limes in his pocket, and began 
eating a third, for he was very hungry, and started on. On 
the way he met a Httle naked Hindu boy with some bananas, 
and he gave him a sweet lime for two of them. Paul thought 
he had made a good trade, and the Hindu was sure that 
he had. The two bananas satisfied his hunger, and kept him 
busy till he was very near the gate of the city. 

Every thing was so strange and interesting to Paul, that 
he forgot about Dhondaram, and forgot about himself. He 
never thought of being alone, or of being afraid. It seemed 
more like one of the old dreams than any thing real ; and at 
last he reached the gate. Inside there was a dense crowd, 
but outside there were very few. It was a gloomy gray wall 
that surrounded the city, and a gloomy gateway. Inside he 
could see all sorts of bright costumes and bright colors, and 
hear the music and shouting, that betokened the happiness 
of every one engaged in the religious feast. It drew him like 
a magic spell. He was hurrying in, when his eye fell upon 
an old beggar sitting beside the gate, and a little boy close 
to him. 

Paul was not sufficiently versed to know by the dress and 
position what the old man was : indeed, he hardly looked at 
him a second time. But a cry of joy burst from his lips as 
he saw the boy beside him. In his own boy's heart he thought 
it the prettiest face he had ever seen. That tantalizing picture 
that had so often come almost into his mind, and then slipped 
away again, once more appeared ; and he seemed to half 
remember merry times that he had had somewhere, with 
merry children all about him. He ran across the road ; and, 
sitting down on the mat close to the little black-eyed, black- 




BEGGAR AND BOY. 



^S OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

haired boy, he touched a lock of the curling hair with his 
dainty little white finger, and, looking into the child's face, 
in a spasm of joy he kissed the dark lips that were half open 
over the tiny white teeth. The child shrieked, and sprang 
upon the old man's knee, rubbing his lips furiously, to wipe 
away the kiss. 

Paul stepped back, and watched him doubtfully. 

" I didn't mean to scare you, little boy," he said apolo- 
getically. " But I don't believe I hurt you like that. My lips 
are not dirty, are they ? " he asked, suddenly remembering 
that he had been eating. He wiped his mouth carefully on 
his sleeve. " You can put mud on your mouth, and kiss me 
to pay, if you like. I'm sorry; but I don't think I am like 
you, for I was made white." 

Paul had mingled some English words with his Hindu- 
stani without knowing it ; and at best the boy did not 
understand much Hindustani either, for there are many 
languages spoken in India. But he understood enough to 
know that it was an apology ; and, pouting, he slipped off the 
old man's knee again. Paul was disheartened, however, and 
was turning away, when he bethought him of the last sweet 
lime that remained in his pocket ; and as he took it out, 
and held it up, the boy's eyes brightened, and his little hand 
was extended instantly. 

"■ You like sweet limes better than you do kisses," said 
Paul a little sarcastically, as he turned away, and entered the 
gate. 

Throngs of people crowded the streets. Every one was 
talking and shouting. On almost any other day there would 
have been swearing and terrible cursing by people who were 
so used to it that they really did not know that they were 




THE HINDU FEAST. 



yo OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

cursing at all. There would have been venders of all sorts 
of every thing, and every one would have been hurrying in 
his own wa-y. But to-day was the great festival, and every 
one was good natured. . 

No one seemed to notice little Paul, as he bent his steps 
this way and that, catching glimpses of pretty things that 
pleased him as he slowly worked his way toward where he 
heard the loudest music, intent upon reaching the spot if it 
took him all day : and it seemed very likely to ; for, if he 
had thought of it, the sun was sinking very low, and the air 
was growing red with the approaching sunset. 

Soon, however, the music helped him out by beginning 
to come toward him. There were huge elephants as far as 
the eye could reach, with magnificent golden howdaks, or cars, 
upon their backs ; and flags were flying, and priests, with all 
sorts of instruments, were making all sorts of noises ; and every- 
where the boys, and even the men too, were firing fire-crackers 
to make more noise. There was little in harmony ; and, as 
for the music, it was horrible, there is no doubt of it : but 
Paul had not an educated ear ; and the excitement was so new 
and grand to him, that, for a little time, he seemed in the 
seventh heaven. But the procession was very long, and the 
crowd was very rude, and little Paul was jostled about in 
every direction. 

The first of the long line of elephants was out of sight 
in one direction, and still there was no end to the line in the 
other. Some one stepped heavily upon Paul's foot. The 
pain brought tears to his eyes. He struggled to get out of 
the crowd. He wanted to go home, when it suddenly oc- 
curred to him that he had no home. He would go back to 
the place where Dhondaram had left him. But where was 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



71 



it ? He had no idea. And where was Dhondaram ? It 
came upon him, in all its force, that he had lost every thing, 
just at the moment that he had begun to have something 
worth keeping. What could he do? He was too miserable 
to cry. It would only have clogged his throat, when he was 
choking already. 

While he was uncertainly yielding to every pressure of 
the crowd, not caring what became of him, he had been 
pushed nearer and nearer the path of the elephants ; and now, 
as he looked up, the gloomy shadow of one of those great 
blue-black creatures was right upon him, with all its be- 
spangling gold and silver, and beautifully embroidered blankets, 
and a little temple on its back, — all of glistening gold. 

The driver, with a pointed iron bar in his hand with 
which to guide the elephant, was sitting on his head, and 
saw Paul in the path. He shouted to him to get away : but 
Paul did not see or hear either the elephant or its driver ; 
for suddenly his eyes were riveted on the figure of a man, 
tall and broad-shouldered, towering above the other Bramhans, 
walking before the elephant, playing on a native instrument. 

" Dhondaram ! Dhondaram ! " cried Paul in a shrill voice ; 
and rushing before the elephant, whose great trunk must 
have struck him and knocked him down, had he not care- 
fully lifted it out of the child's way, Paul sprang into the arms 
of his muni friend. 

A sharp, bitter contortion distorted every feature of Dhon- 
daram's face, as he recognized his charge, and heard his 
own name shouted in that throng. He had made discoveries 
that had horrified him on reaching the city; and, thanking 
Heaven that the boy was safe outside, he had bearded the 
lion in his den, and, to throw off suspicion, was marching 



72 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



there in that procession, under the very eye of officials who 
were searching for him, when " Dhondaram ! " rang from 
the Hps of the Httle boy, and Paul leaped into his arms. 
For an instant the black eyes rested on the little figure. It 
was a moment when life and death were but a hair's breadth 
apart. He could drop the child there, and possibly escape 
alone. The arms relaxed. _ Whatever his original motive had 
been, in taking charge of Paul, it evidently would not stand 
this test. 

•* Dhondaram ! Dhondaram ! " rang from a hundred voices 
in that crowd, as that magic name sounded, sending a thrill 
of fear into many a heart, and making many a coward quail. 
Paul did not even wonder why. 

In an instant that horde might fix upon him, and tear 
him in pieces. Dhondaram knew it well. It was growing 
dark. The procession had already begun to light torches 
here and there, and all was an uncertain mass in the con- 
flicting cross-lights. The momentary hush was simply because 
the crowd were waiting to know just where and which Dhon- 
daram was. 

The muni looked steadily into the large blue eyes. They 
were laughing and happy. In that instant the arm tightened 
again about the little figure. " He is not afraid of me. He 
kissed Dhondaram ! " the muni muttered ; and, bending for- 
ward with his burden, he sprang under the elephant beside 
him just as a hand was laid upon his shoulder. 

All that Paul realized was that he was wrapped beneath 
the robe of his friend, who hurried one way and another. 
He was painfully crushed sometimes ; but he only realized 
that there was danger of some sort, and heroically ground 
the suffering between his little teeth without uttering a sound 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



that might hinder his protector's escape, till finally the cries 

became more distant, and the pace of Dhondaram slower 

and more regular. When Paul opened his eyes again, through 

the folds of the priest's robe he saw that they were in a very 

narrow street, where all was dark, except for torches that 

were smoking on occasional booths, where there were people 

without any bright-colored clothes, and where there was no 

room for elephants. 

Sometimes a calf or 

a cow stood in the 

way, or a donkey 

with his burden 

almost filled the 

breadth of the 

path, and there 

was shouting and 

wrangling ; but no 

one was shouting 

the name of Dhon- 

darajn now, and 

a moment later 

they turned into a 

still narrower alley, 

where the houses rose up above their heads till they seemed 

to touch the sky. Here hardly any one was passing, and 

there was very little noise. Here, too, Dhondaram walked 

still more slowly, and soon turned into a narrow doorway, and 

entered a small room opening from a court. 

There, with a sigh, he laid the burden down upon a 
coarse mat, lit a taper, and looked long and earnestly into 
the pale face and large blue eyes. 




A HAKROW STREET. 



74 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



'* The little Ingrij was frightened," he said, gently touch- 
ing the golden-brown hair. 

" I was frightened till I found yo«, Dhondaram, and now 
I am hungry," said Paul, sitting up, and patting the dark 
hand. 

Dhondaram hurried out, locking the door behind him ; 
but in a moment he was back again with rice, cakes, and 
milk, and Paul noticed that his little bundle of clothes and 
the bag of sweet limes were already in the room. 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 75 




CHAPTER VI. 

SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 

was growing dark when the steamer on which Scott 
Clayton and Richard Raymond had so long been 
passengers came in sight of the beautiful harbor 
of Bombay. In the distance they obtained a fine 
view of the clusters of islands upon one of which the city 
of Bombay is built. But the gray dusk of night lay over the 
harbor, and the flash from the new Colaba light dazzled them 
as they passed it. 

The steamer made slow progress, for the water was liter- 
ally filled with fishing-craft. Scott could see the quaint out- 
line as they crept through the forest of boats, and at last 
he was interested in every thing. This was the land toward 
which all his hopes were turned ; and he eagerly drank in 
every item, that he might the more rapidly become acquainted 
with it all. 

The steamer was delayed in waiting for a pilot, for the 
pilots of Bombay are a very independent set of fellows. 

"They'll come when they get good and ready, and not 
before," remarked the captain grufily, as he stood watching 
for their light. 

"Why is that?" asked Scott. " I should think they would 
want the job." 

" So they might," said the captain : " but there's a club 
of them; and they all get their percentage, no matter who 
takes in the ship." 



76 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"Then, why don't you go in yourself, and cheat the whole 
of them?" said Scott. "That's what I'd do." 

" I'd have to pay the pilot-fee all the same, as soon as I 
came to anchor," replied the captain. " And then, if I did 
any damage to myself or any one else, I'd be well punished 
for it by the court. That's all." 




COAST OF BOMBAY. 



" And quite enough," observed Scott. Then the pilot-boat 
appeared. 

"They've stocked their lockers, and now they'll take us 
in," said the captain as he went on deck, meaning that they 
had waited to finish supper before coming out. 

Slowly, very slowly, the steamer crept up, and rounded 
the point, when suddenly all the lights of the circling city 
came into view, extending for several miles away in the 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



77 



distance. All over the water, too, were the lights of almost 
innumerable ships ; for Bombay is the great importation port 
of India. 

No sooner were the papers signed than the decks were 
swarming with all kinds of natives. There were half-naked 
boatmen, dingi wallahs in scores, wrangling for an oppor- 
tunity to carry them ashore ; for the tide rises seventeen feet 
sometimes in Bombay, and it is impossible to make the fine 
stone wharves available for the larger steamers. Mingling 
with them were very polite and loquacious hotel clerks, with 
the dark Hindu faces, but dressed as Europeans, pressing 
the claims of a half-dozen of the best hotels of the city. 
There were several Hindus and Mussulmans, who spoke 
English well, as they thought, urging the passengers to en- 
gage them as kibnutgars, or servants ; for, as Scott soon 
found out, every one in India has to have at least one 
native servant. When they were out of the bustle, Richard 
explained to him the necessity. These fellows were shoving in 
their faces numberless letters of recommendation from former 
employers. They were the neatest set who came on board, 
with white or colored turbans twisted tightly about their black 
hair or smoothly-shaven heads, long white cloaks bound about 
the waist with soft girdles, very small white breeches cling- 
ing about their ankles, and feet thrust into pointed slippers. 
But the most insinuating and the most unpleasant class of 
all were the Parsis, in all kinds of dress, most of them 
aping, in some respect, the clothes of the Europeans, but 
all wearing the curious shining black hats, looking like bishops' 
mitres turned sideways. They were money-changers, looking 
for opportunities to purchase English gold with Hindu ru- 
pees. They are lighter in complexion than the Hindus. 



78 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



*' They look as though they had a bilious turn, and had 
it bad," said Scott. " I should like to push the whole lot 
of them overboard." 

" It would hardly do," replied Mr. Raymond ; " for they 
are the Jews of Bombay. They have the money. They are 
very serviceable sometimes. You will meet them everywhere." 

It was so late when they landed, that as they rolled 
away in an English cab, driven by an apish-looking Hindu, 
Scott obtained but a faint idea of his surroundings, except 
that every thing was very strange. They went to the Byculla 
Hotel as soon as they landed on the Apollo bundar, or 
wharf; and early in the morning they started for a walk. 

Just outside the court of the hotel they came upon one 
of the great sights of India, — a band of jugglers. 

" They are bound to initiate you early," said Richard. 
" Here are some fellows that are almost the trademark of 
Hindustan. Wait till I set them going. They are lying 
around here, waiting for the people in the hotel to wake up." 
He threw some coins into the midst of the crowd, saying in 
Hindustani, " What are you about, you lazy fellows ? Don't 
you think we want to see any thing of India?" 

It was like throwing corn to a flock of hungry chickens. 
Instantly the whole crowd sprang up, and all together began 
operations. One fellow began beating a drum, and moaning 
and howling as if in his last agony. 

" Can't he stop that noise ? I can hardly see while he is 
making that racket," said Scott. 

" You would see nothing if he should stop," replied Richard ; 
" for it is that delightful music that inspires the whole of 
them." 

And, sure enough, as soon as he was well under way, 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



79 



they all grew excited, and their bodies and voices joined in 
the hubbub. In the front, just under their eyes, sat a fellow 
who drew out two thin swords twenty-six inches long; and, 



r 




''^^: 




juaaLERS. 



after insisting that they examine them, he deliberately put 
the points into his mouth, and pushed the entire length down 
his throat. Then he wanted them to put their hands over 



So OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

his stomach, where they could feel the points. Another put 
a stone into his mouth ; and a moment later, fire and a dense 
cloud of smoke issued from his nose and mouth, which at last 
completely enveloped him. Then he suddenly turned a som- 
ersault, and, opening his mouth, calmly took out the stone, 
and threw it on the ground. One fellow took some iron 
hoops, one after another, on a pole, where he set them 
spinning, till he had eighteen in a line ; then, sticking the 
pole into the ground, he deliberately sprang through the 
whirling hoops, and, landing on his feet, he turned about, 
picked up the pole, and still kept the hoops whirling. 
Another began throwing" short swords into the air, till he had 
ten of them flying about his head ; and, in all the confusion, 
little acrobats were performing all manner of antics, and a 
sleight-of-hand performer was endeavoring to attract their en- 
tire attention to endless little tricks he was dexterously play- 
ing. They set a basket down in their midst. It was about 
two feet broad, a foot and a half high, and two and a half 
feet long. They took a netting that was made in the shape 
of a small bag, and, after much ado, succeeded in crowding 
into it a Hindu boy. They tied the neck of the bag fast, 
and laid the boy upon the top of the basket, which was 
apparently much smaller than he was. A sheet was thrown 
over him; and in a moment the netting-bag was thrown out 
from under the sheet, tied as it had been, but empty. They 
drew the sheet away, but the boy had disappeared. Some 
one said that he was in the basket ; and one of the Hindus 
at once took the cover off, and jumped in himself, stamping 
about in it furiously. He then put the cover on, and bound 
it. Then he took a long sword, and thrust it through the 
basket, and out of every corner. With the last thrust a wild 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 8i 

cry of pain issued from the basket, and he drew the sword 
out dripping with blood. 

" I have killed the boy ! " he cried ; and Scott shuddered, 
for he certainly thought he had. But the Hindu pointed to a 
crow sitting on a tree at a little distance, and said, — 

" Heaven be praised ! my boy was a good boy. He has 
only been turned into a bird ; but I will soon have him back." 
He gathered the sheet up into a little ball, and threw it at the 
crow, which was frightened and flew away. But the Hindu 
only laughed ; and, gathering up the sheet again, he cried, — 

" I have him ! " 

Then he threw the sheet over the basket with one hand, 
while he drew it off with the other ; and, behold, the basket was 
strained in every part, to contain the boy. The Hindu joy- 
fully untied the knots, and the cover flew up, for the boy was 
apparently so large that it could hardly hold him ; and, smiling, 
he crept out of the basket without a scratch. 

One of the Hindus then began to play the famous tree 
trick, — making a mango grow from a little seed, blossom, and 
bear fruit, under a sheet, where there was absolutely nothing 
but sand before : but they had looked so long that it was time 
for breakfast ; and, assuring Scott that he would see jugglers in 
India till he would wish that there was no such thing in the 
world, Richard turned away, and they entered the hotel court. 

The guests had begun to gather on the broad veranda, 
where already there were two snake-charmers performing. 

" These fellows are plenty just now : there must be some^ 
thing up in the city that draws them here," said Richard, as 
they approached the little group gathered about the charmers. 

They were two wrinkled old Hindus, with eyes that looked 
like snakes' eyes, and motions that were so subde and quick, 



^2 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



that Scott thought there must be some affinity between them 
and their serpents. In httle baskets before them there were 
several snakes coiled away ; and each charmer was playing on 
a rude gourd flute to a huge cobra that was coiling and un- 
coiling and weaving before him in time to the music. They 



.-=•7 ' F ' . -T y--, "■" > 



'.;^^' 




SERFENT-CHASMEBS. 



would hiss, and dart their heads at the charmers sometimes ; 
and the way the charmers dodged them showed that they did 
not think them entirely harmless, as they spread the broad 
hoods just below their heads, and displayed every symptom of 
anger. Then one of the charmers stood up, and, catching the 
snake about the neck with one hand, threw him three times 
about his head, and let him fall upon the ground. There he 
lay, rigid and stiff, at full length, and straight as an arrow. 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. [\-^ 

" I have killed my snake," cried the Hindu ; " but I have 
a good cane instead." And, taking the creature up by the 
tail, he pretended to walk about, leaning on him. 

"Will any one buy my cane?" he asked, offering it to 
several of the bystanders, who shuddered, and drew away. He 
smiled ; and, thrusting the head of the rigid serpent under his 
turban, he began to push up the rest of the body, till at last 
all but the tip of his tail had disappeared. Then he removed 
his turban, and there lay the poisonous reptile in a glittering 
coil upon his head 

Scott gave a cry of surprise ; and Richard asked, " Does 
that remind you of any thing in particular ? " 

" Of Moses before Pharaoh ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" You are not the first one who has thought of it," replied 
Richard. " Sceptics are using it as an argument, to-day, to 
prove that Moses was only an expert snake-charmer, after 
all." 

** Well, he succeeded in getting the children of Israel away, 
and that was what he was driving at," said Scott. 

Richard went up to the charmer, who was now waiting for 
his assistant to collect the offerings. The people who had 
been looking on did not pay half so much attention now as 
they had before, and were some of them so busy read- 
ing the morning papers that they could not even hear the 
assistant when he spoke to them. After a moment's conver- 
sation, Richard returned, with the information that that day 
was the great feast of Nag-Panchmi ; and, on the way in 
to breakfast, he promised Scott that he should see serpents 
enough that day to keep him in snaky dreams for the rest of 
his life. 

The breakfast-room was large and high, and full of windows, 



84 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Opened wide and covered with kus-kus grass awnings, that 
Hindu servants in white costumes were continually sprinkling 
with water, to cool the light breeze that came through them. 
Over each long table something entirely new to Scott was sus- 
pended from the ceiling, looking like panels, three feet broad, 
as long as the table, and ornamented with fancy fringes. From 
the lower corner of each, that was only a little above the heads 
of those sitting at the tables, a small cord was attached, that, 
after passing through several pulleys, went down into the hand 
of a native boy, sitting close against the side of the room. Scott 
had noticed one of them in his room the night before, but he 
was too tired to wonder what it was. Now, before he could 
ask, the guests began to seat themselves ; and suddenly all the 
panels began to swing vigorously back and forth, fanning every 
one at the table. 

"You like the punkas f said Richard, watching him. 

" That is a name and a half," replied Scott : " I should like 
them better with some other name." 

" There is nothing else that will do so well : ^ punka ' is 
Hindustani for ' fan,' and these punkas are the saving of a 
fellow's life if he lives long in India." 

" But it is not so very hot this morning," said Scott : "I 
noticed that the thermometer was only eighty-three." 

" But did you ever know it to be so hot at eighty- three in 
Boston ? " asked Richard. " It is a sultry, damp heat here, that 
tells on one. The blood gets hotter and hotter. After break- 
fast we will drive on Malabar Hill, and obtain a little sea- 
breeze for a change." 

" I feel as if a breath of salt air would do me good," replied 
Scott, laughing. Nevertheless, after drinking a cup of hot 
coffee, and eating a plate of snow-white rice and curry, with 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



85 



chicken, and several bananas and oranges, he began to reahze 
that eighty-three was certainly hotter in Bombay than it was 
in Boston, and that a sea-breeze would not be bad. 

They walked down the street a little way, as Richard wanted 
to mail a letter at the Byculla station, which was just beyond. 

Before the station -gate there sat an old man on the ground, 
and a boy stood beside him with a bamboo tray in his hands. 
They were ragged and dirty; and the old man, especially, had 
as ugly and unpleas- 
ant a face as could 
well be imagined. 

" What in the 
world is that frightful 
fellow trying to do ? " 
asked Scott as they 
approached. 

" He's only sell- 
ing fruit," replied 
Richard. 

" But what a 
horrible face ! It's 
enough to drive 
every one to the other side of the street." 

" You don't buy the old man's face. You need not even 
look at it. Go to the boy, and get half a dozen of those 
custard-apples. You'll like them." 

Scott obeyed ; and when he was close to the old man, 
and looked fairly in his face, it was not so ugly after all. 

While they were stopping by the gate, a curious vehicle 
was driven by, drawn, at a slow dog-trot, by a span of mal- 
tese bullocks, with humps on their shoulders, in front of which 
the yoke was laid. 




FRUIT-SELLER. 



86 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Look at there ! " cried Scott. " Is that a man, or monkey, 
driving ? " 

" It's an argument for Darwin surely," replied Richard. 
*' But the poor fellow is not half so much a monkey as he 
looks. He is only one of the poorest of workingmen. That 
is a native gharri. It belongs to his employer. The poor 
fellow will not receive ten cents a day ; but out of it he 




GOING TO MARKET 



probably has a large family of children, and three or four 
wives, to support" 

" But that was a regular buffer riding with him. What 
was he, — crown prince, or sheik of some sort?" 

'* Hardly," replied Richard, laughing. " What his ancestors 
may have been I could not say, for there are hosts of 
princes and nabobs working for their living in India now ; 
but that fellow is only some one's cook or butler, going to 
the market to purchase the breakfast." 

" I hope he's late enough about it," said Scott. 

" Not very," replied Mr. Raymond. " At the hotel we 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. ^-j 

could have breakfast early: but, if we were living as every 
one lives in India, we should only have what they call ' cAota 
hazri' or ' little breakfast,' of bread and tea and fruit, early ; 
then we should sit about the house, and read and bathe, and 
about nine or ten we should have breakfast." 

" See ! He is stopping at that shanty. Is that the 
market ? " asked Scott, still watching the gharri. 

"It is the place where those fellows always stop first," 
said Richard. " It is a coffee-house. He will go in there, 
and smoke a hookah, and drink a cup of coffee, before he 
does any thing else ; and then he will charge enough more 
for what he gets at the market to pay the bill." 

" I'd go to market myself, if that's the way," said Scott, 
as they turned away. 

*' It wouldn't pay," said Richard. "In the first place, it 
is too hot ; and then, when a European goes to market, they 
charge him so much more, that it is the cheapest in the end 
for him to pay for the cook's coffee." 

" Ha, you ! Buggy wallah ! " he called suddenly, as a car- 
riage something like a clumsy doctor's gig passed, with the 
driver sitting in front of the dasher. He obediently stopped, 
and turned up to where they were standing. As they got 
in, Richard directed him to drive them over Malabar Hill. 

"What was it you called him?" asked Scott when they 
started. 

" Buggy wallah," replied Richard. 

" But is not that English ? " 

" Yes, the buggy part of it is ; and this is supposed to 
be an English vehicle. At any rate, ' buggy ' is the only name 
these people know it by. But eat your apples, and see if 
you like them. They have a wonderful history." 



8S 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



The apples were large and green ; but, instead of a skin, 
they were covered with coarse green scales. Scott pulled out 
one of these scales, and a soft buff pulp followed it, that looked 
and smelled and tasted like a most delicious custard. But 
the moment he had put his teeth into it, they struck against 
a hard black seed that literally filled the soft pulp. 

"It is splendid! what there is of it," said Scott; "but 




TO MALABAK HILL. 



one might almost starve to death while he was eating. What 
is the history ? " 

" Why, the real name is the apple of Eden ; and the 
Mohammedans say that that is the apple with which Eve 
tempted Adam in the garden of Eden. They say that then 
it had a skin like tissue, and of a beautiful color, and that 
the seeds were almost invisible, and that the flavor now 
is the very faintest suggestion of the fragrance that it had 
in the garden." 

" I don't wonder that Adam and Eve went for them, then," 
observed Scott, as he began a second apple of Eden. " How 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



S9 



soon do we come to Malabar Hill?" he asked, looking up 
when it was finished. 

" We are now driving on that illustrious spot," replied 
Richard, waving his hand ostentatiously. " We are in the 
midst of the residences of the aristocracy of Bombay, — Euro- 
peans, Parsis, Mussulmans, — the paradise of boobies and 
snobs, and some very good fellows too," he added with a 
laugh. 

" But I don't call it much of a hill," said Scott, looking 
down a broad and certainly beautiful avenue ; " though it was 
something like these apples, — very steep, what there was of it." 

" It is the most of a hill that there is on the island," 
replied Richard, as the driver turned about, and in time was 
in the heart of the city again. 

The streets were all crowded with people now, the booths 
were opened, and every thing in the bazaar was ready for 
business. There were all sorts of people, in all sorts of 
costumes, and doing every thing imaginable. There were 
nabobs swelling along with two or three servants about them, 
and beggars and merchants. There were women with their 
faces all covered with veils, and women with one eye exposed 
through the folds of a white sari that was thrown over them ; 
and there were women very prettily dressed in gaudy little 
jackets and silk breeches, with only a fancy gauze cloak. 
There were children half naked, and children, hosts of them, 
with nothing on but a litde string tied round their waists. 
There were porters carrying bundles, and sometimes half a 
dozen staggering along under the weight of a large box or 
bale hung upon a bamboo pole which rested on their shoul- 
ders ; and as they went they grunted, "He, he, he! Ho, 
ho, ho!" to keep in step, and forget their burden. There 



go OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

were bhistis, or water-carriers, with large earthen jugs, or 
kujas, hung upon opposite ends of a long bamboo pole which 
rested over their shoulders, and women with all kinds of 
bundles on their heads. There were all nations there, and 
all seemed at home. There were British soldiers and native 
policemen ; and during their ride they even saw the peculiar 
sight of two Hindu policemen taking a drunken English 
soldier to the fort. 

No one seemed to fear being run over, or to be on the 
lookout for carriages ; and the result was, that the drivers had 
to keep up one unending howl to men, women, and children, 
who were forever in their way ; and one could have walked 
about as fast as the buggy was drawn through the bazaar. 

" What makes every one walk in the middle of the street ? " 
asked Scott. 

" Because there is nothing but middle," replied Richard. 

Scott had not thought of it before ; but, when he looked, 
there was absolutely no sign of a sidewalk anywhere. 

" They must get their shoes all dirt," he observed, " and 
have pretty-looking carpets to pay for it." 

" In the first place, they don't have carpets, as a general 
thing, not even the rich fellows," said Richard ; " and, carpets 
or no carpets, they never wear shoes into the house, any more 
than we wear our hats." 

" But what an absurd idea to take off one's shoes ! " ex- 
claimed Scott. 

" I don't know about that, Scott : they say, what an absurd 
idea to take off the hat, instead! for they say their shoes 
touch the ground, and are defiled, and will defile their friends* 
houses ; but their hats do no harm on their heads. A host 
of things are right or wrong in this world, just according to 
who do them, and who judge them." 



i mm 
', ! fife 

n't' 




'/ ;• V f 



^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" I believe you are right, Mr. Raymond," said Scott. 
" But tell me some more about these fellows, and what they 
do. It is a deal more interesting than ever before, now that 
I am looking right at them." 

"The best way to tell you will be to show you," said 
Richard. " And the best time to show you is right away 
now, for we don't know where we may be by to-morrow." 

" How are you going to show me ? " asked Scott, as 
Richard gave an order to the coachman. 

" I am going to take you to call on an old friend of 
mine, — Esofali Hiptulabhoy." 

" O Caesar's ghost ! what a name ! " groaned Scott, as 
he sank back in the buggy. " What sort of a man is he ? " 

" He is a high official, and a very good fellow." 

" He is a heathen, of course, to have such a name," 
muttered Scott. 

"Yes, he is a heathen," said Richard, but in such a voice, 
that Scott instantly looked up, and realized that he had hurt 
his friend's feelings. 

" I was only joking, Mr. Raymond," he hastened to add. 

" That's all right," replied Richard, smiling. " I was only 
thinking how Americans enjoy calling these people heathen, 
while there is much to admire, and really not much to 
despise, in them, except the bad habits they have learned 
from the English, which are made a thousand times worse in 
the Hindus than they are in the English, because the Hin- 
dus do not know how to control them, and hide them." 

"But tell me about this Mr. Hip — Hip — Hip — What 
was the name ? Really, it was horrible, Mr. Raymond." 

" Let me tell you what it means, and perhaps you will 
not think it quite so bad. My friend's name is Esofali 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 93 

His father's is Hiptula. The termination * bhoy ' is put on, 
making him Esofali Hiptulabhoy. The ' Eso ' is for the word 
* Esa,' meaning Jesus ; and ' AH ' means follower, with a eu- 
phonious ' f ' between. Then ' Hipt ' means friend, and 
' Allah ' is God ; so that the horrible name of this heathen 
is ' follower of Jesus, and friend of God.' " 

"Then he is a Christian," said Scott. 

" Not at all," replied Richard. " He is one of the strictest 
of Mussulmans ; but the Mussulmans believe in Adam and 
Moses and Solomon, and in all the Old Testament, in fact, 
down to Jesus. Then they branch off, and believe that 
Mohammed was still greater, — the prophet of all the prophets 
of God." 

" Then you keep speaking of the Hindus as though they 
were something else." 

" So they are," said Richard. "It is only when we say 
Hindu very carelessly that we mean all the people that live in 
India. The Hindus are really the followers of the Bramhanical 
religion. There are one hundred and seventy-five million of 
them in India, and only fifty million Mussulmans, or Moham- 
medans as they are sometimes called. The Hindus are the 
people that the missionaries preach to principally, for the 
Mussulmans say that they are better than Christians already ; 
and so it is the Hindus that we hear all the horrible stories 
about. They are the people that are so divided up into castes, 
where the Bramhans, or priests, are at the head, and the 
pariahs at the foot. It is very hard to deal with them, 
they are so full of whims; yet, after all, there is something 
very suggestive to our loose-jointed notions of strict Christian 
principles in the fierceness with which they stick to their 
religious peculiarities. I had two servants once, a Hindu 



^^ OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and a Mussulman, who went with me on a trip into the 
mountains. We were all alone, and a long way from help, 
when they both became badly poisoned, and I feared they 
would die. I had a bottle of antidote with me ; and, hurrying 
to the Mussulman, I put the bottle to his mouth without 
waiting to turn any out. Then I gave it to the Hindu ; 
but the fellow refused to touch it because it had been against 
the lips of the Mussulman. I turned some out, but all in 
vain. Before I thought, I told him it was all I had, or I 
should have deceived him in some way. But he only shook 
his head, and said, ' I would rather die than defile myself 
to live.'" 

** What a fool he was ! " exclaimed Scott. 

*' I don't think so," said Richard. " That boy honestly 
believed that it was wrong for him to touch any thing from 
which one not of his caste had been drinking. Because we 
think it a foolish notion did not make it right for him. And 
he died up there in the mountains sooner than do what he 
thought was wrong." 

" I don't believe a Christian would have done that," said 
Scott. " And I don't see the use of missionaries spending 
so much time and money in trying to convert fellows that 
are already a deal better than Christians. 'Twould be better 
to have them send missionaries to America." 

" That's a mistake that I made too, and I did not get 
over it for a long time. It would certainly do Christianity a 
deal of good to imbibe some of the scrupulousness of the 
Hindus ; but when it occurred to me how much better 
Christianity was, if really lived up to, than was this Hinduism, 
I saw at once the good of bringing such fellows as these 
Hindus into the line." 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



95 



"Do they make as good Christians as they did Hindus?'* 
asked Scott. 

"Here we are already!" exclaimed Richard, calling to the 
driver to stop outside the gate. "This is a crazy sort of a 
gig to make a formal c'all on a great nabob in," he added 
with a laugh. " I fancy ^, 
we might as well walk 
up to the house." And, 
suiting his actions to his 
words, he stepped from 
the buggy. 

"I should not think 
he could be much of a 
nabob, to live behind a 
fence like that," Scott 
remarked, as he followed 
Mr. Raymond, and looked 
up at the high stucco 
wall, not in very good 
repair, beside a gate at 
which they had stopped. 

"In America we 
spend every thing on 
the outside," replied 
Richard ; " and we care 
comparatively little for the dust and dirty clothes behind the 
door, if our neighbor's eyes cannot see there. But in India 
they go on the opposite principle, and care very little what the 
outside is, so long as the inside is clean. It is only their 
way," he added, laughing ; but Scott's attention was attracted 
to a figure at one side of the half-crumbling gate. 




HIKOTT MENDICANT. 



96 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



A fellow, the very picture of some of the idols Scott had 
seen in drawings, sat by the gate, covered with rags, and as 
dirty as mortal man could easily be. His forehead was painted 
with blue and red and yellow, in three circles, and there were 
stripes of yellow down each cheek. On his head there was 
a pyramid of beads as large as English walnuts, strung on a 
coarse thread, and wound higher and higher over some dirty 
sort of a turban, till they came to a point. Strings of larger 
and smaller beads were round his neck, and hanging down 
to his waist. The rags that covered him were fantastically 
arranged. In one hand he held a copper or brass plate, and 
in the other a sort of a globe. 

" He is a religious mendicant," said Mr. Raymond, without 
waiting for a question. 

"But what in the world is he doing there?" 

" Waiting for alms," replied Richard, smiling. 

" I hope he's waiting patiently enough ! He don't seem 
over-anxious. He has not moved a feather since I first looked 
at him," said Scott. 

"That's because he believes it is more blessed to give 
than to receive ; and he thinks he is conferring a favor upon 
you by letting you have an opportunity to give him some- 
thing." 

" It's very good of him, I must say," said Scott a little 
scornfully. 

" It is precisely what our Bible teaches," suggested Rich- 
ard. " But never mind the theology of the thing. If you 
have a two-anna piece, like an English sixpence, hold it 
between your thumb and finger, by your side, and see how 
soon it will move him." 

" The old reprobate ! " muttered Scott. " I'd sooner give 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 97 

him a slap in the face. He's the very picture of impertinence, 
sitting there Hke a statue. He's a hypocrite : I know he is." 

Still he took out the two-anna piece ; and, in an instant, 
the little dish came into position to receive it. Scott had a 
good mind to put the money back in his pocket. He even 
made a motion that way ; but, seeing how willingly the beggar 
was withdrawing the plate, he decided it would not be so 
good a joke after all, and dropped the coin in the tray. 

** Giving to the poor is purchasing mercy in heaven ; and 
in the spirit that you give shall the mercy be delivered. 
Thank you, little gentleman," said the fellow, bowing and 
smiling, and speaking in very good English. 

Scott shot through the gate as if he had been fired from 
a cannon. 

" I saddled the wrong horse that time surely," he said, 
when Mr. Raymond came up with him ; and his face was red 
to the temples. 

"Yes," said Richard, "he had the best of you: there is 
no doubt of it. I never heard of but one of those fellows 
before who could speak English." 

" Would you go back and apologize ? " asked Scott. 

" I think not. He would hardly know what you meant. 
But I would be careful in the future, and not take advantage 
of a fellow being deaf, to speak ill of him," replied Richard. 

" So I will," said Scott decidedly. And now for the first 
time he noticed where they were going, and with a cry of 
delight paused for a moment to enjoy the beautiful picture. 
They were in the midst of a large garden, with brilliant 
flowers growing in profusion on ever>' side. There were large 
trees, too, about the borders ; and little green and red parrots 
were chattering everywhere. The flower-beds were not fan- 



98 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



ciful little things, like those Scott had seen in front lawns in 
America, but enormous affairs, without much regularity, with 
great flowering shrubs, like a little forest, and paths paved 
with white marble leading through them. Down the centre, 
through an open space, rose a large, and at least curious, 
mansion. There were little windows and broad balconies and 
domes and arches everywhere. The lower floor seemed to 




EEOFALI'S HOUSE. 



be only an immense pavilion of beautiful arches supported 
by carved pillars. 

" Well," said Scott in astonishment, "he is something of 
a nabob, after all. But how in the world am I to act ? 
Goodness me ! I never thought of that. Let me wait out 
here. Please do. Do you keep on your hat, and take off 
your shoes ? " 

"How would you expect a Mohammedan gentleman to 
act, when he was calling on your father ? " suggested Richard. 



SCOTT JN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 99 

** Why, the best he knew how, of course ! " said Scott. 

" Very well : if you behave like a gentleman to the best 
of your ability, I don't believe that Esofali will find any fault 
with you." But here he was interrupted by two natives, 
who came running toward them with something made of 
beautiful peacock-feathers. But before they began to shield 
them from the sun, as was their evident intention, they fell 
upon the ground, touching their foreheads, and muttering 
something in which Scott could often distinguish the name 
of " Raymond Sahib." He knew they were greeting his 
friend ; and he began to suspect that Mr. Raymond was of 
more importance than he had thought, from the generous 
way in which he had been his companion. 

They entered the house through one of the beautiful 
arches. Several servants were formed in line on either side 
of the passage ; and all knelt, and touched their foreheads, as 
Mr. Raymond and Scott went in. They were ushered into a 
large room with a white marble floor, and elaborately carved 
marble screens before the windows. There were fine tapes- 
tries and Persian rugs on the walls and floors, some very soft 
divans, or low sofas, and a little marble table ; but otherwise 
the room was without any ornaments. 

They had waited but a moment, when a very tall and fine- 
looking native entered the room, and almost running to 
Richard, clasped both hands in his, pressed them upon his 
lips and then on his forehead, held them there for a moment, 
then exclaimed, — 

"Aha, Raymond Sahib! the sky has been black since you 
left, and now the sun breaks out again with your coming. 
But nothing has gone wrong, that you come so unexpectedly ? " 

" Nothing is amiss," said Richard pleasantly ; and Scott 



lOO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

thought it precisely the way in which he would have spoken 
to him, and wondered how it could be, when in the presence 
of so great a man as he had described Esofali. Then he 
turned, and introduced Scott, and Scott felt his cheeks grow- 
ing red, as the Mohammedan grasped his hand ; but he shook 
it just as though he were an American, and, in very good 
English, said, — 

" I am delighted to see you, my young friend. Any friend 
of the great and wise Raymond Sahib is welcome here." 
Then he went on in Hindustani with Richard, often address- 
ing a question in English to Scott, till Scott felt so much at 
home that he began to examine him closely. 

Esofali was magnificently dressed, yet very simply. He 
had a plain white muslin coat on, bound at the waist with a 
soft cashmere girdle. Over that was a long white silk loose 
coat, with a heavy collar embroidered with gold. It hung so 
low as almost to cover a pair of satin breeches that were 
very large, and, in. turn, completely covered his feet. On his 
head he wore only a little cashmere cap as soft and white as 
snow, with a thread of gold embroidery about it. 

He insisted upon their remaining to breakfast. Scott 
thought it nearly time for his dinner, but it did not matter 
much what it was called. He was so much in fear that he 
should do something wrong, however, for every thing was so 
strange, that he almost lost his appetite. Several varieties 
of sweetmeats were the first thing served to them, in as many 
little dishes. Then there were fish and fried eggs, with a 
curious flavor that he did not understand. The odor was 
delicious, as the dishes were brought upon the table ; but the 
taste was so different, that, do what he would, he could eat 
but little. Then there was rice and curry and chicken ; but the 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



lOI 



rice had cloves and cardamom-seeds boiled in it, and the curry 
was full of fruit. Scott knew it must be good by the way 
in which Mr. Raymond ate it, as he had never seen him eat 
before ; but he quietly made up his mind that Mussulman cook- 
ing was not for him. He little dreamed what a very short 
time it would be before he would eat those dishes, highly 
spiced and curiously cooked, 
quite as ravenously as Mr. 
Raymond. 

Before they went away, 
their host brought in his old 
father, a gentleman with a 
very white beard. His hair 
was shaven close to his head, 
like that of his son. He 
could not speak English, but 
received Scott very cordially. 
Then Esofali brought in his 
little boy, a cunning little 
fellow of five years, who sat 
on the edge of the table, and 
pronounced a few English words very correctly, much to the 
delight of his father and grandfather. 

When Mr. Raymond left, each pressed his hand to their 
foreheads, and bade Scott a cordial farewell, urging them to 
be sure and come to their home again. 

"Is his wife dead?" Scott asked, as they rode down the 
street in their host's handsome English carriage. " I dared not 
ask him about her, for you did not ; but it was very funny not 
to see any lady at all at the table." 

Richard laughed for a moment, much to Scott's discom- 




FIVE YEARS OLD. 



I02 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

fort, then replied, " One wife died a year ago ; but he has 
three, at least, left." 

*' Three wives ! Why, how in the world can that be ? 
And where do they keep themselves ? " exclaimed Scott. 

" Though you did not see them, I'll warrant they all saw 
you. I heard them chatting behind the screen at the end 
of the room while we were eating breakfast." 

"Then it would have been polite for me to have asked 
for them ? " said Scott. 

" It would not have mattered with Esofali, but it Is not 
the custom. The wives of the Mussulmans very rarely come 
into society where there are men, and one never asks con- 
cerning their health. It would be thought a great impolite- 
ness here, just as it would be with us to ask a lady how old 
she was, or if she had the stomach-ache. It is simply some- 
thing that they never talk about." 



SNAKES, lo- 




CH AFTER VII. 

SNAKES. 

]N driving home they passed the great cotton-market, 
where bales of Indian cotton were piled in immense 
blocks. On rickety benches at one corner sat a few 
men, many of them Parsis, engaged in folding their 
hands, and smoking cigarettes. 

" They are the famous cotton-brokers of Bombay," remarked 
Richard, pointing toward them with his thumb. 

" Don't believe the board has opened yet, then," said 
Scott. " They are taking life easy." 

"It's not much like a bourse in America certainly; and 
yet business is in full blast there, and those fellows literally 
control the vast cotton interests of India. They transact a 
tremendous amount of business, and do it all in that same 
solemn fashion." 

" I should have called it a funeral," observed Scott. 

When they reached the hotel, there were two natives wait- 
ing on the veranda, in clothes as white as snow, grinning 
from ear to ear ; and, the moment that Richard stepped 
from the carriage, they were both upon the ground, kissing 
his feet. He stepped back, and made them stand up. Then 
each took a hand, and pressed it to his forehead, and knelt 
again. Scott stood back in amazement, till Richard explained, 
" They are two boys from my little place at Poona, whom I 
telegraphed to, last night, to come down and meet us. We 



/ 



I04 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



shall need them as kitmutgars, and we can trust them better 
than the fellows we might pick up here." 

" But what do I want of a servant ? " said Scott inde- 
pendently. " I always waited upon myself." 

" You'll find it very different here," replied Richard. " It 
is too hot to do every thing for yourself; and you will often 
be too tired, though you may have done nothing. Then, there 
are a host of things that will absolutely require a servant. 
Things that you could do in America, and be proud of doing, 




THE COTTON-BROKERS. 



would injure you in the opinion of natives, at least, to do 
here. One is obliged to cater to their notions somewhat, in 
living here ; for he requires their respect and good will." 

" It must make it rather expensive," said Scott. 

** Not so very. These two boys, for instance, cost me 
eight cents a day apiece ; and if we wished we could pick 
up boys for less. The hotels charge nothing for them ; for 
they do our work, and wait on us at the table. And many of 
the railroads and steamers about India allow each first-class 
passenger to take one or two native servants." 



SNAKES. 



lo- 



By this time they had reached their rooms; and Richard 
said, — 

*' Neither of these boys can speak English, for I never 
employ one that can : they are apt to be unreliable. But 
they will either of them understand what you want, almost 
before you can ask them. You can take your choice. The 
one with the gold cap 
and jacket is Sayad, and 
the one with the turban 
is Moro. Sayad is a Mus- 
sulman, and Moro is a 
Hindu." 

The two boys smiled, 
as they already compre- 
hended what Mr. Ray- 
mond was saying about 
them. 

" I think I could get 
along with a Mussulman 
best," said Scott, to which 
Richard assented ; and 
Sayad, with his pretty 
gold cap and vest, was 
turned over to Scott as his personal servant so long as he 
remained in India. 

" He will sleep on a rug just outside your door at night," 
Richard explained. " He will attend to your bath in the 
morning ; he will black your boots, and brush your clothes ; 
take care of your trunk ; see to your washing going and 
coming from the dhobi, or washerman ; wait on you at the 
table ; take care of your room ; and walk with you whenever 




MORO. 



r 



io6 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



up 

r 



you wish him to, to carry your bundles, and do errands. You 
must let him do all these things every day, see that he does 
them well, and never do them yourself, or he will expect you 
always to do them. Be kind to him always, but never let 
him feel that you think him an equal. They are not brought 
in that way here. There are just two things that you 

must be careful of. For- 
eigners often overlook 
them at first, and at once 
come to the conclusion 
that Hindus are the worst 
servants in the world. 
You must know just what 
you have in your trunk, 
and, if you miss any thing, 
tell him at once, and 
direct him to find it be- 
fore the next morning, 
and never believe too 
implicitly what he tells 
you. As a rule, the Hin- 
du idea of honesty is very 
^^^^°- weak in little things. 

They will steal and lie without thinking they are really doing 
wrong. If you charge them with it, and grow angry, they 
only become dogged, and you can do nothing with them ; 
but, if you take it right, you will keep them right all the 
time, without their feeling it. That's a long sermon I've 
preached to you on the moral treatment of Hindu servants; 
but it took me years to learn it, and I found it very useful 
at last. Now we must be ready for dinner; and you'll be 




SNAKES. 107 

hungry, notwithstanding the hearty breakfast you ate at Eso- 
fali's, hey?" 

Scott went into his room, followed by Sayad, who did not 
need an order to that effect, for his eyes had told him all 
about it ; and he and Moro found it hard to tell which should 
be jealous of the other, — the one who was selected by the new 
comer, or the one who could remain with the old master. 

Scott opened his eyes wider and wider to see how readily 
Sayad took his new duties in hand, and how he seemed to 
read his thoughts. The clothes for dinner were laid out at 
the boy's fancy, and correctly, without consulting Scott. They 
were brushed and put upon a chair in such a way that Scott 
could most easily reach them in the proper order. Then his 
slippers were given him to put on, while Sayad blacked his 
boots. Sayad even shampooed his head, and combed his hair 
for him, and did it as well as a barber, — an operation that 
Scott found very refreshing in the heat of that Bombay 
afternoon. Then he neatly folded the old clothes, and care- 
fully packed the trunk, and locked it, giving the key to 
Scott. Thus, without a word passing between them, Scott 
was ready to go down, and every thing in order to leave. 
He had done absolutely nothing but move enough to take 
off one suit of clothes, and put on another. 

" Why, it's like being a sultan ! " he exclaimed to Mr. 
Raymond when they met. " He's the finest fellow I ever 
heard of." 

"Well, don't let him know that you think so," replied 
Richard. *' Nothing spoils a native servant so quickly as 
undue praise or blame. A new broom sweeps clean, you 
know ; and, the first time you see that he has not done any 
thing just as well as he did it to-day, make him do it over 



lo8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

again, no matter how tired he is. It is the only way to keep 
him straight." 

"Isn't that rather rough?" questioned Scott. 

" It sounds so : but that is the way I've brought these 
boys up ; and you see they are not only good servants, but 
they love me." 

After dinner, Richard proposed that Scott should take a 
nap, while Sayad pulled the punka over his bed ; '* for," said 
he, " some friends of mine are going to give us a little dinner 
of welcome to-night, and it will be pretty late, as we must 
go first to the feast of serpents. It is a sight one sees but 
once a year in Bombay, and we must not miss it. You will 
be tired." 

The sun was setting when they started. They went alone ; 
and Sayad and Moro were allowed to go by themselves, to 
see what they, wished of the festival. 

" It has been going on all day, especially about the 
temples," said Richard ; " but to-night we shall see the best 
of it. Look at that ! See that bullock-team going by ! " 

Scott looked up, as, through the dense crowd that already 
filled the street, a curious wagon, drawn by a pair of nearly 
white bullocks, went crowding its way. The bullocks had 
really no harness on, but a strap about their necks to keep 
the unique yoke fast, and a ring in their noses, to which a 
sort of reins was attached ; for the driver sat behind, as 
though he had a pair of horses. The carriage was the most 
curious thing, however. There were two heavy wheels, with- 
out springs, supporting a very clumsy body, that was nothing 
after all but a dome, very like a miniature temple, with four 
arches and four pillars, supported at the four corners of the 
vehicle. In the front arch sat the driver, and under the 



SNAKES. 



109 



dome a woman reclined, wrapped up in a cloud of gauze, and 
wearing all the jewelry that she could pile upon her little face 
and neck. 

"What is she?" asked Scott. " Upon my word, it's almost 
a mowing-machine ! " 

"A Bramhan woman, — one of the very highest caste of 






I A-V-JR-»o« , 







_^ 



CARRIAGE or HINDU LADT. 



Hindus," replied his friend. " It is their great day for show- 
ing themselves. It is really the feast of the god Krishna, 
whose great celebrity is his love for prett)' women ; and they 
make to-day the anniversary of his killing the great serpent 
Bindrabund, that was once supposed to be the spirit of evil 
on the banks of the Jumna." 

"It is not simply the worship of Krishna, is it?" said 
Scott 



no OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" No, Indeed ! It is a day of making offerings to snakes 
in general, — feeding them, that is about all, and praying 
to them not to bite them in the year to come." 

" See those torches yonder ! " exclaimed Scott. 

"That is where we are going. That is the centre of the 
illumination. There is no hurry, though ; for they will wait 
till it is quite dark before they begin." 

" Look at these booths all along the way," he added. 
*' They have images of the god for sale." 

"Idols?" ejaculated Scott in horror. 

" Yes, idols," replied Mr. Raymond, laughing. " And 
garlands of flowers, and milk, to offer to the snakes. You 
might purchase a can of milk, and take it with you ; for the 
priests will be pleased with the offering, though they would 
not take the milk from you themselves." 

"Do they really worship these things?" asked Scott in a 
sort of fascinated horror, working his way up to one of the 
booths. 

" Not at all," returned Richard decidedly. " And that is 
where a host of our good people in America make a great 
mistake." 

" I always thought they did," mused Scott, now taking 
one up, and looking at it for a moment, when, before, he 
would have loathed it. 

"The Hindus who are at all educated would laugh at 
you, if you suggested that they were worshipping this piece 
of wood." 

"What do they worship, then?" 

" God," said Richard earnestly. 

" Not our God ! " exclaimed Scott. 

^' There may be a difference of opinion there," replied 



SNAKES. 



Ill 



Richard. '* For my part, I believe they worship the same 
God that we do, and that he accepts their worship." 

" Then, why should they be converted by the mission- 



aries : 



" Because Christianity is so much the noblest and best 
way to worship God. The Hindus had, perhaps, the first idea 
of a Trinity ; and their theology is something like that of 
very many scholars 



in enlightened 
lands. They be- 
lieve that God is 
every thing, and 
that every thing is 
God. They say 
this little bit of 
wood, of which 
they made this idol, 
is a part of God, 
and that, in setting 
it before.them when 
they pray, they are 
bringing the great 
God nearer, and more directly before their thoughts. That 
is all the use the educated make of idols." 

" I don't call that idol-worship," mused Scott. 

" Perhaps not," returned Richard ; " yet it is not the best 
way to bring God before the heart in prayer ; and the quicker 
our missionaries succeed in their work, the better it will be 
for the world, even if it is no better for heaven." 

Scott bought some milk, and turned away. While they 
had been waiting, a band of snake-charmers had gathered, 




--Kt-CHAKMERS. 



I 12 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



with a crowd of boys who were anxious to see every new 
performance, around the posts of a fountain, or well, just 
opposite, and were meditatively twining their serpents around 
their arms, hoping for an opportunity to earn some money 
an performing for the foreigners. 

They looked so patiently expectant, that Scott was on 

the point of giving 
them the milk he had 
bought, when Rich- 
ard restrained him. 

" They have had 
a good day, you may 
be sure," he said ; 
" and, no matter how 
much they earn, they 
will spend it all be- 
fore morning. You 
had better save the 
milk. It was the last 
they had at the 
booth ; and, if you 
have an offering, they will let you through the crowd till you 
get a much better view farther on." 

This was very good advice, as Scott soon found ; for, as 
they approached the centre of action, the crowd became 
denser. And soon all that he could see, even when lifted 
up on Mr. Raymond's shoulder, — a position that his sea 
voyage had made him much too heavy to retain long, — was 
a crowd of dark faces and white turbans against the smoking 
torches. 

It was a curious sight, however ; and Scott declared that 




THE CROWD BECAME DENSER. 



SNAKES. 1x3 

even that was well worth coming for: but Richard insisted 
on getting him nearer. 

A few minutes later a Bramhan bhat, with shaven head, 
went slowly past them. It was a difficult thing for a Bram- 
han to make his way through such a crowd ; but they were 
not so boisterous or tightly packed as a crowd in America, 
and fell back sufficiently to give him room as he announced 
his approach. 

Just as he was passing the two, Richard called, — 

" Ha, Kashinath ! " and added in English, " Will you pass 
an old friend in this way without speaking?" 

The priest turned about, and, with an exclamation of 
delight, cried in English, " Welcome, Raymondrao Sahib ! 
Welcome to India again ! You could not stay away very 
long, thank Heaven ! " And he touched his hands to his 
forehead. 

" Come to the temple in the morning," he added. "We 
die if we do not speak with you." 

" That's very good, Kashinath," returned Richard with 
a laugh. " But look you ! Here is a young friend of mine, 
who has an offering of milk, and cannot reach your ugly gods 
to stuff them." 

" Stand right by the corner here, Raymondrao, and I will 
send a sapwallah in five minutes to fetch him on his back." 

"That's better yet!" exclaimed Mr. Raymond. "That 
beats all your Oriental compliments put together. Go on ! 
Go on ! Send the sapwallah, and we'll thank you in the 
temple to-morrow." 

" Salaam, Sahib ! " said the Bramhan, bowing as low as the 
crowd would permit, and touching his hands to his forehead. 

"What is a sapwallah f' asked Scott. 



jj^^ OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 

"A serpent-charmer," replied Richard. 

" Ugh ! " was the comment. " Have I got to ride like a 

cobra f " 

" Never mind who carries you, and brings you back," said 
Richard, laughing, " so long as he takes you safely where you 
want to go ; and you may be sure of that with any one whom 
Kashinath may send." 

'' Well, what does Raymondrao Sahib mean ? " questioned 
Scott, who was afraid, that, if he waited, the name would 
" slip from his mind," as he said. 

" Rao is simply a title of respect, and so is Sahib. The 
old fellow felt good-natured, and put it on thick : that is 
all." 

" Well, how is it that you know every one, and every one 
is so terribly good-natured when you are around ? " asked 
Scott, determined to solve the question that was becoming 
more prominent every hour. 

"There comes your sapwallah^^'' was the answer, that was 
not at all satisfactory. " Now, twine around his neck, but 
don't go bury yourself under his turban." 

A rather snaky but not altogether unpleasant looking 
fellow appeared through the crowd, and, making a profound 
salaam to Mr. Raymond, took Scott on his shoulder without 
a word, and, by wriggling precisely like a serpent, succeeded 
in rapidly making his way through the throng without ap- 
parently incommoding any one. He set Scott gently down 
in the midst of a scene that startled every particular hair of 
his head, and yet was so wildly grand that he stood en- 
raptured. 

All about nim torches were flaming and smoking. Gro- 
tesque banners were being swung back and forth by their 




THE FESTIVAL OF THE SERPENTS. 



ii6 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



bearers, as there was no breeze to do It. Men were beating 
curious drums, and wailing strange, weird songs, while others 
were blowing upon metal trumpets. From a circle in which 
Scott stood, the crowd had been kept back, by fear of the 
snakes perhaps ; and all about the outer edge stood a line 
of women — that, in the cross-lights of the moon and the 

torches, seemed to Scott 
to be the most beautiful 
he had ever seen — in cos- 
tumes as beautiful as they 
themselves. Some were 
dressed in tinsel and bril- 
liant colors ; some, only 
half clad, were draped in 
flowing white ; all were 
bearing offerings of flow- 
ers or milk for the idols. 

So far, the scene was 
so wild and beautiful that 
Scott would have stood 
there all night, an en- 
chanted spectator ; but, 
when his eye fell to the 
immediate circle about him, his blood ran cold, in spite of a 
lifetime of resolving not to be a coward. Directly before him 
there were two great bowls, each filled with milk ; and around 
each bowl was a writhing ring of frightful cobra, drinking the 
milk, while their charmers, in a second circle, were making all 
the hideous moans imaginable, now and then catching one 
of the cobra away, to give another a chance. And the dis- 
appointed fellow would hiss in his madness, and spread his 




SAPW ALLAH. 



SNAKES. II y 

broad hood, that looked many times more hideous in the 
night than by day. 

Scott deposited his can of milk, received the blessing of 
the chief sapwallah in a terrible contortion, that frightened 
him almost out of his wits. Then he signified to his par- 
ticular sapwallah that he was ready to retire, and, with a 
shudder, was tenderly taken on the back where so many 
a cobra had been crawling, and a moment later was placed 
as tenderly by the side of Mr. Raymond. 

" Did you see enough ? You were only gone a moment," 
said Richard, as he dropped a coin into the sapwallaJis 
easily opened hand. 

" I saw enough. Indeed, I did ! " replied Scott. " In fact, 
I think I have seen all the snakes I care to for a lifetime : 
am ready to go home any time you are." 

" You are not hurt ? " inquired Richard anxiously. 

" No, indeed ! But those snakes ! " said Scott with a 
shudder. 

Richard laughed outright. " If that is all," he said, " you'll 
soon be ready to do it all again. Snakes never lose their 
charm. But we will find a buggy or cab as soon as possible, 
and drive back." 



ii8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



1 


1 


1 



CHAPTER VITI. 

IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 

]HE evening dinner was a very grand affair. Scott 
had never seen any thing equal to it. And when 
the speeches began, he was hardly surprised, after 
all, to gather from the many words of welcome that 
his friend was a man of great importance in India, well 
known from Bombay to Calcutta, and from Madras to Mas- 
suri. He began to be afraid of him, and to wonder if he 
were not behaving himself improperly before a man to whom 
every one, no matter of what creed or nationality, seemed to 
offer esteem. When the dinner was over, however, he was 
altogether too tired to give the matter any serious thought ; 
and the next morning, as he was very late, and his friend 
came to his room for him to go to breakfast, he found him 
the same Richard as ever, — just a kind, every-day friend. 
And Scott looked in vain for any of that dignified Mr. Ray- 
mond upon whom all the praises had been showered the 
night before. 

Even had he tried, it would have been impossible for 
him to be any thing but his natural self with Richard Ray- 
mond, and he was very glad of it ; for one of the hardest 
things for a real, true-hearted boy to be is an artificial, imi- 
tation gentleman. 

When breakfast was over they started for a walk ; but 
as the sun was well up, and was beating upon the city in a 



JN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 119 

way that made it dangerous for them to exercise, Richard 
proposed that they take advantage of an offer a friend had 
made him at the dinner, and borrow his large palanquin for 
the morning. 

"Then this afternoon we must go to the caves of Ele- 
phanta ; for to-morrow is Sunday, and we should start for Puna 
the next day. I am anxious to have you stop for a day at my 
little home there, and we do not know how soon we may hear 
something that will send us from one end of India to the 
other. I have put the best agents right upon the track of 
Dennett ; and we shall overhaul him in a little while, no 
matter what he is doing, or where he is." 

"If little Paul were only safe with us, I should be per- 
fectly happy," said Scott. 

" Well, in time we shall have him. There is no human 
doubt of it," replied Richard. " I have had every outlet 
stopped. I don't believe the man can possibly escape from 
India. It is a big trap, to be sure; but he is here, and Paul 
was all right when they landed, about six weeks ago. Chil- 
dren rarely feel this climate the first year, and I don't believe 
Paul will." 

After a short call, they accepted the palanquin, which was 
called to the court for them. 

•' One of those litde carriages hanging on a pole," re- 
marked Scott, laughing as he saw the palanquin. 

" Yes, one of the handsomest and easiest ones I ever 
saw, except those belonging to natives," returned Richard. 
"There are not many palanquins to let in Bombay, at the 
best. They are not so popular as they are in the rest of 
India, and then the public ones would be so small that we 
could not both ride in one ; and I want to keep you awake, 
and make you see the sights." 



I20 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" A regular four-horse team, Isn't it ? " added Scott, as 
he seated himself in the handsomely carved wood carriage, 
that was, as he said, hung on a pole, — a long, ornamented 
pole at each end, — which was supported on the shoulders 
of four stalwart natives, who certainly seemed to enjoy their 
work, by the jovial way they started off, singing the great 

national sonof of the 
palanquin - bearers, 
" He, he, he ! Ho 
ho, ho!" 

The palanquin 
was low : one could 
comfortably sit up 
in it, but that was 
all. There was a 
soft bamboo mat' 
tress over the floor, 
with embroidered 
pillows, so that one 
could lie down, and 
even sleep, very 
comfortably ; and at one end was a little closet, where books 
for reading, or a lunch, could be carried. Before they started, 
their host slipped into this closet a little cask that contained 
some broken ice, and two bottles of soda-water, 

" If you would only drink something, Mr. Raymond," he 
said, " we would put some champagne in there instead, that 
would make your eyes shine ; but it's no use asking you." 

" Not a bit," replied Richard, laughing, as they were borne 
away. 

"Do you really never drink? I thought, till last night 




THE PALANQUIN. 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 121 

at least, that it was only because you did not want to set me 
an example." 

Richard laughed heartily at this remark of Scott's ; for 
such an explanation had never occurred to him. But at last 
he answered, — 

"It is a little over ten years since I have tasted a drop 
of any kind of wine or ale or liquor stronger than soda-water 
and lemonade." 

" I thought people had to in this country," said Scott. 
"They say the water is very unhealthy, and that the heat is 
much more dangerous, unless one protects his constitution 
with stimulants." 

" You heard some old toper say that," responded Richard, 
smiling. 

" It was the captain of the steamer," returned Scott. 

" Well, it is the sentiment of a great many ; and possibly 
the water does not agree with all. Where it is not good, I do 
not drink it ; but it does not necessitate my drinking intoxi- 
cating liquor. And, as for bracing up the constitution, I am 
very sure that ten Englishmen in India have to leave the 
country, broken down with over-drinking, to one that is broken 
down with the heat alone." 

"But in emergencies you would drink, wouldn't you?" 
asked Scott doubtfully. 

" Oh, I'm no temperance preacher, Scott ! " said Richard 
quickly. " I never signed a pledge ; I never talked on tem- 
perance in public; and, as for cases of emergencies, why, 
that's the same as with every thing else. One had better be 
his own lawgiver. I've noticed that fellows that carried liquor 
with them when travelling, so as to have it in case of emer- 
gency, generally succeeded in getting up an emergency before 



12 2 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



they got to the end of the journey ; and those that did not 
have any very rarely needed it. I never take any with me, 
unless I am going far up into the mountains, or a long way 
from any possibility of obtaining it. But look at those three 
fellows down there! While we are talking temperance here, 
we are missing all the sights." 




BEING SHAVED. 



"What are they doing?" exclaimed Scott, as he saw the 
three men, — one sitting on his own heels, close against a low 
stone fence built out into a court ; while another bent over 
him, and a third was standing near, and talking with them. 
^'Is the man hurt?" 

" Not at all. He is only being shaved." 

"Shaved in the street?" 
^ *' Yes, right there in the gutter, or anywhere else.** 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 



12 



" But the fellow is at work on his forehead," said Scott. 
' "The natives shave their heads and foreheads, and clip 
the eyebrows ; then the barber washes the face carefully, and 
cleans and pares the nails on both hands and feet. He can't 
afford a shop ; and, as the patrons often have no homes that 
he can go to, he attends to them where rent is the cheapest, 
which is right in the 
street." 

" He makes an all- 
over job of it, and no mis- 
take," said Scott. " But 
it must cost a fortune to 
be barbered like that." 

" Yes, that is the 
worst of it," replied Rich- 
ard solemnly. " It will 
cost that poor fellow 
nearly three cents," 

" Starvation ! " ex- 
claimed Scott. 

"Not at all," laughed 
Richard. " If he has three 
or four customers in the course of the day, the barber will be 
able to support a good-sized family, — say, three wives and 
ten children." 

Scott groaned. But a moment later his attention was 
attracted to another curious individual. 

"What sort of a fiend is that?" he asked. 

" A very welcome one, I can assure you," replied Richard. 

" Not with me," returned Scott decidedly. " He'd have 
hard work to make himself popular in my books. Look at 




THE POSTMAN. 



124 <^^^ BOYS IN INDIA. 

that ugly coat, and that little round turban and big belt and 
little breeches and big shoes, and that regular base-ball club ! 
And what a face ! No, sir ! I'll pass him every time." 

" But, my dear boy, that is a postman," repeated Richard 
with mock gravity ; for he knew how eagerly Scott was wait- 
ing their going to Puna, where letters from America that 
crossed Europe had been forwarded to his home, before their 
arrival. 

"Ah!" said Scott, now watching him eagerly. "That 
makes a deal of difference. He's gotten up pretty well for a 
postman, after all. I wish he'd come round, and call on 
me. I should think our horses would get tired," he added, 
as the bearers of the palanquin, coming into a more open 
street, began to run at a rapid gait, passing several buggies 
that were going in the same direction, and shouting and laugh- 
ing at the drivers. 

" They are so used to it, that they would keep it up almost 
all day. The only thing they would not do would be to carry 
us an inch, if they found that we had a lunch in that closet 
that had a ham-sandwich or a bit of pork in it." 

"I admire their taste!" exclaimed Scott. "They'll find 
no pork in my lunches." 

"The taste is all very well, but not the extent to which 
they carry it. If they were our oldest and most trusted ser- 
vants, and we were twenty miles from anywhere when they 
found it out, down would go the palki,^o\Qy and nothing 
would induce them to take it up again." 

" I'd throw away the pork if it came to a pinch," said 
Scott. 

"'Twould do no good; for th^ palki, once defiled, would 
be a long while in getting clean again. I once had a right 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 125 

troublesome native neighbor. A wealthy fellow owaed a mis- 
erable hovel near my lawn. He did not fancy foreigners, and 
would not sell me the property, and would not turn out the 
tenant of the hut, though he was the vilest fellow imaginable. 
I tried every way to get him out, but in vain, till one day 
my butler, who was a Portuguese Christian from Goa, to do 
me a kindness I suppose, kept watch till the family had all 
gone out, and, stealing over there with a litde pig he had 
secured for the purpose, he shut him up in the house. 
When the poor tenants came home, and discovered the pig, 
they turned about, and slept upon the ground outdoors, and 
in the morning left every thing just as it was, and went away 
forever. A year later the old owner sold me the property, 
for he could not either rent it or give it away to a native." 

" That beats the piggest stories I ever heard," said Scott, 
laughing. " But what is this that we are coming to ? " he asked, 
as the bearers, who had been running very rapidly, began to 
slacken their pace. 

They had gone quite beyond the city, and were in open 
and grass-grown and palm-shaded streets beyond Mazagon. 
Far in the distance they could see the highest turrets of 
Malabar Hill ; but it seemed as though they rose up out of 
a dense tropical jungle, instead of the heart of a great city. 
And close at hand, nestling in a little grove of almost im- 
pregnable green, lay a low Hindu temple, on the banks of 
a little lake. 

" This is the temple where your Bramhan spends his time 
just now," answered Richard. " You know we said we should 
call on him this morning, and thank him for putting you 
through last night." 

"That's an awfully pretty pond," observed Scott, as the 
bearers now came slowly up to the temple. 



126 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"It is the sacred tank, where they can bathe, if they wish, 
before going into the temple to worship." 

" It would be some fun going to church on a hot day. If 
you could have a swim thrown in without breaking Sunday," 
observed Scott, calculating on his estimates between the reli- 
gions of India and America. "Wonder if there are any fish 




A HINDU TEMPLE. 



in there ! " he added. But before Richard could warn him that 
it would not be precisely in order for a Christian to go fish- 
ing in one of those Hindu temple-tanks, the fat Bramhan 
was beside the palanquin, making very low bows. 

He did not attempt to assist them out of the palki, for 
there were too many humble Hindus looking on at that 
moment ; though, if Richard had chosen to tell of it, he could 
have spoken of more occasions than one when his good friend 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 127 

had taken many a liberty : for the fat Bramhan was a very 
weak beHever In the efficacy of what he professed ; and, in 
less than a year from that time, he gave up his office at 
the head of this picturesque little temple, though he had to 
sacrifice an independent fortune to do it, and went with Mr. 
Raymond to the American mission-station, to be baptized, 
and taught the Christian theology, preparatory to becoming 
the exemplary and humble Christian minister that he is to- 
day. 

" I knew you would come ! " he exclaimed eagerly ; "for 
no one ever spoke the truth who said that Raymondrao Sahib 
once broke his word. Come into the temple. I have a place 
saved for you in the outer court. I have a great treat for 
you. The beautiful Princess Nuna, the wonderful and cele- 
brated Bramhan girl (whose mother Nuna was born to the 
noble Shastri Vias, and adopted by the Bramhan family of 
Yadaba, the rulers of Chandrapur, in the Deccan, and who 
is now the wife of the ruler), — this her remarkable daughter 
has been given to the temple service as sacrifice, and is the 
most beautiful dancer out of the paradise of Indra. She was 
in Bombay for last night ; and, knowing you would be here 
to-day, I secured her to dance in the temple. Come quickly," 
he added, " for she is already dancing." 

They followed him to the outer court and the position 
that he had kindly reserved for them, where they obtained a 
fine view of the figure, upon which all eyes were fixed, — a 
graceful young girl alone in the centre of the temple, with 
a bright-colored scarf, and gracefully trailing drapery, a few 
bright jewels flashing in her ears and about her neck (but 
less than most Hindu women wore), while her long, glossy 
black hair hung in light waves far below her waist. She was 



128 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



softly moaning a weird melody, and slowly whirling about, 
and gracefully bending her body in time with the singing. 

It was not precisely what Scott had expected, but — 

"It is beautiful, beautiful ! " he whispered. 

"Yes," replied Mr. Raymond, "just here it is certainly 
beautiful ; but the murli dancing and the common nautch 




THE MUSICIANS. 



have been disgraced and degraded by the English in India, 
till they have lost the charms they once possessed, even for 
the Hindus; and, like all the other grand institutions of an- 
tiquity, they are rapidly becoming demoralized." 

Sitting beside the altar, ready to take up the service when 
Nuna should have finished, were three or four other dancers of 
less celebrity, with their two musicians ; but Nuna sang without 
even a native accompaniment. 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 129 

"What has that old fellow got in his hands ? " asked Scott, 
looking at one of the musicians, who had just risen to his 
feet as Nuna began to retreat, and was softly fingering the 
strings of his instrument. 

"Which one do you mean?" questioned Richard. 

"Why, the fellow that has the floor now," replied Scott. 

" Oh ! that is what they call a saringi. It is the model 
of the first violin that was ever made ; for there, again, in 
spite of all that people say to the contrary, India led the 
world." 

Just outside the temple, as they again prepared to enter 
the palanquin, Scott noticed a curious group of ragged men, 
two of them sitting on a sort of portable bed with their e^'es 
shut, one of them counting a string of beads, while two stood 
up at the end of the bed. No two had costumes exactly 
alike, but they were all as dirty as could well be. 

"The wind would blow it off, if they got any more dirt 
on them. What are they anyway ? " asked Scott. 

" Beggars," replied Richard dryly, as he tossed a coin 
upon the bed. 

" They look like turtles basking in the sun," said Scott. 
" They don't seem very miserable." 

" No, indeed ! they are having a good time," said Mr. Ray- 
mond. "It is only a profession in India. There is no dis- 
grace in it." 

" Can any one be a beggar who wants to?" Scott asked. 

Richard shrugged his shoulders. " I don't imagine one 
would have to tr^^ very hard ; but the general claim is, that 
to pass the examination, and receive a diploma as a competent 
beggar, one must either have the right of birth (that is. liis 
father and mother must have belonored to the class before 



J ^o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

him), or he must be a superannuated religious official, who is 
unable to support himself at the altar. But they stretch that 
a good deal, I fancy." 

At a little distance down the road, they passed a small 
open square, where a dozen or more children were drawn up 
in line, and gravely saluted them as they went by. 

" What is the matter there ? " asked Scott. 




SCHOOLBOYS SALUTING. 



*' The two men behind are teachers, and the boys are 
scholars of a private school," replied Mr. Raymond. 

*' A pretty set of scholars ! " observed Scott. " There's not 
one of them a dozen years old." 

"That may all be," returned Richard. "But I'll venture, 
there are not three among them that cannot repeat the mul- 
tiplication-table up to twenty times twenty without a mistake, 
and as fast as their tongues will run." 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 



I^l 



" Are there no larger schools than that ? " Scott asked, as 
they passed out of sight. 

"Oh, yes, indeed ! any number of them ; and smaller 
ones too, where a few of the children of the wealthy are 
educated by a priest. They send the little fellows while they 
are very young; for they have a deal to learn, and but litde 
time to learn it in. Many of the boys are married before 




UNDER A PRIEST. 



they are as old as you are ; and the Hindu girls are married 
before they are ten, and sometimes even in infancy." 

"Were there any girls in that crowd?" Scott asked. 

"The girls don't often go to school in India, Scott. They 
are educated at home, in the branches that become a wife, 
as they suppose ; and reading and writing are not fashionable 
for the women. They do not consider them lady-like accom- 
plishments." 



132 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" I remember hearing mother talk about that," said Scott. 
" Mother's a great woman on the mission among the women 
and girls of India. But the missions have schools for girls, 
haven't they?" 

" There are several large mission-schools for both boys 
and girls, and Sunday schools beside, where they are taught. 
If you like, we'll go to the mission services ^to-morrow." 

" I should like it above all things ! " exclaimed Scott. 
"And I must take notes on every thing, if it is proper; for 
I promised my pastor that I'd write him a letter about the 
foreign missionaries and their work. He's a little wild on 
the subject. It'll seem like 'The Missionary Herald,' won't 
it? But I can't help that. I think I can do it, if I keep 
my eyes open." 

They started again at a rapid pace for the hotel ; for it 
was approaching noon, and the excursion to the caves of 
Elephanta takes more than half a day, unless every thing is 
favorable. 

"That Reverend Ka — Ka — whatever his name is, is a very 
obliging man," said Scott. 

" Last night and this morning he has given you a chance 
to see the religious caste of Hindu women to the very best 
advantage. What do you think of them ? " inquired Richard. 

" Why, they're not bad-looking — females, when they're in 
full dress," Scott answered, hesitating as to whether he should 
call them girls or women, they were all so very small. " But 
I think it's more the fancy way they have of getting them- 
selves up, and the very graceful motions, that make them 
seem pretty. When I get home I am going to rig Bess up 
something like this style. I think she'd make a stunning 
little Hindu. She has an awfully pretty way of walking, that 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 133 

ain't a bit like other girls that go bumping along like jump- 
ing-jacks. She moves all over, and nowhere in particular, 
just as these women do." 

"Then, you don't like the Hindu faces?" asked Richard. 

"The face is all right," replied Scott; "but they spoil 
it making so many holes in it. See that woman, now ! " he 
exclaimed, pointing to a daintily dressed Bramhan woman 
going by. She had an unusual number of ornaments for one 
who is walking in the street, and proved a good example 
for Scott, " If she were my sister or my mother, I should 
want to kiss her sometimes, but ugh ! Think of having to 
get round all that stuff before I could find her lips. Do 
they ever kiss in India?" 

-' I suppose they would take those nose-rings off, if they 
were going to make a real business of it," said Richard. 

"There's a pretty costume ! " exclaimed Scott, pointing out 
a woman with a snow-white sari, or Hindu shawl, thrown 
about her. 

" She is perhaps in mourning," replied Mr. Raymond. 

"White for mourning?" queried Scott. "What in the 
world is that for? Don't they know what is right?" 

"Why do people in America wear black, Scott?" 

-"Why, because it is solemn." 

" What makes it solemn ? " 

" Because it's mourning, I suppose," said Scott, laughing. 
" Didn't you say this was a temple ? " he said to Mr. Ray- 
mond, as he stood that afternoon in the main galler)' of the 
caves of Elephanta, with its corridors and arches, a hundred 
and thirty feet square. 

"Yes, this is a temple. Many claim, that, ages ago, the 
Jains started it. It was literally excavated out of the mountain- 



, . , OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

side. Do you see, the floor and the pillars and caps and 
the arched roof are all of one single block of stone? And 
do you see that figure of Bramha there, behind the bas-relief 
of Siva? That is the marriage of Siva and the goddess 
Parvati ; and that figure of Bramha, you see, has three heads. 




CAVES OF ELEFHANTA. 



If the Jain theory be true, it is one of the earliest records in 
the world, of any idea of a Trinity, or, perhaps better, a triad." 

" How do they know that it is a marriage, if it was made 
so long ago ? " inquired Scott. 

" Simply because Parvati is standing upon the right hand 
of Siv^; and no woman is allowed to stand upon the right 
hand of her husband, except during the marriage ceremony." 

"They must have enjoyed picking as much as we do 
whittling, to have dug out all this," observed Scott, looking 



IN PAL AN QUI .\' AND ROW-BOAT. 



oo 



about him. "It's a big thing, but I wouldn't give a cent for 
it as a church. Did you ever attend a service here ? " 

" Just one," repHed Richard ; " but not the kind of one you 
mean. I attended the dinner oriven to the Prince of Wales 



here a little while agfo." 

o 




MAKRIAGE 01 SIVA. 



Scott drew a long breath. " Did they dinner that fellow 
here?" he asked, and, turning with a sigh, added, "I must 
make a note of that," and demurely walked out of the old 
temple. 

At the ledge entrance, however, his gravity was somewhat 
shaken by looking up suddenly, to face one of the most 
peculiar specimens that had ever crossed his path. 

" Great Caesar's ghost ! " he groaned, and sat down on the 
low stone wall. 



136 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Richard looked at the object that had caused the shock, 
and then, with mock anxiety, he asked, — 

"My dear young friend, what is it that perplexes you?" 

" What in the world 
was that ? " asked Scott, 
helplessly pointing after 
the figure that had now 
nearly disappeared. 

" A man," replied 
Mr. Raymond quietly. 

" But, merciful sakes, 
what a man ! " groaned 
Scott. " It was a walk- 
ing skeleton." 

"Just about as near 
it as one could come 
without hitting," replied 
Richard. "But you 
would be astonished to 
find out how far from a 
skeleton that fellow is in 
strength." 

His skin was very 
dark, and it certainly 
looked as though there 
was nothing under it but 
bones ; and over the 
joints where it must bend occasionally, it lay in dry, leathery 
folds. 

" He looked for all the world like a rhinoceros," said Scott. 
The man had nothing on but a dirty cloth about the loins, 




A KATWADI. 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 1 37 

and another twisted once round his head, leaving a mass of 
absolutely uncombed hair above it and below it. The hair 
was black at the roots, but dyed red at the ends. 

" He is a full-blooded muni, — one of the kind that you have 
probably read about, who sometimes have held up an arm till it 
became stiff in that position, and could never come down again ; 
who hung themselves up by iron hooks thrust through their 
muscles. They will lie down, and apparently die, and remain 
so for a month and more, with their flesh cold and hard, and 
their joints stiff. The heart will stop beating, for all that the 
most elaborate medical instruments can determine, and there 
is no observable breathing. But, when the time is up, they 
wake up, and go about their business. There are munis, too, 
who have fasted for forty- five days." 

" You don't mean gone absolutely without any thing to 
eat ! " exclaimed Scott, interrupting him. 

" Yes, I mean exactly that." 

"Well, I should almost think that man had just been doing 
it," said Scott. " But what was that painting on his bony 
chest?" 

" That represented the two great principals of Hindu 
theology, — the Preserver and Destroyer." 

" I thought there were three principals. Is it fair to be 
partial to the two, and leave out the Creator?" asked Scott. 

" Bramha, the creator, is rarely worshipped or represented 
alone. There is no idol of Bramha in all India, and no prayer 
is ever offered to him. He is supposed to have no form, 
except when a part of the trinity, as you saw the three- 
headed god in the cave. He is in every thing, and ever>^ 
thing is Bramha." 

•* I should think they would be careful, then, how they 



138 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



handle things in general," said Scott, as they walked on toward 
the boat that was awaiting them, to take them back to Bom- 
bay. 

" You think just right, Scott. Even my little boy Moro 
will not so much as tread upon a bug in the street, no matter 
how much trouble it costs him to prevent it. They will not 
eat meat for that reason." 

"Are all munis like that fellow at the caves?" Scott asked, 
as they stepped again upon the wharf in Bombay. 

"Not by any means," answered Mr. Raymond. "They 
are of all varieties, from the gentlemanly soldier to such a 
vagabond as this one. Why, one of the fiercest leaders of 
the mutiny, one of the strongest soldiers of that Sepoy rebel- 
lion, was Dhondaram, a muni ; and to-day he is an outlaw, 
for whom .England offers ten thousand dollars. We have plenty 
of time, and on the way to the hotel we will drive round to 
the Hindu temple by the Byculla. You can see any number 
of them there. It is the great camping-ground for the munis 
that come on to the island in the course of their pilgrim- 
ages." 

Mr. Raymond directed the driver of a buggy they engaged, 
and, seating himself, continued, — 

" They are forever moving. They make tremendous pil- 
grimages. They never do a day's work, but they harden 
themselves to wonderful endurance. They torture and deform 
themselves, on the principle that suffering Is meritorious, and 
then go about, and allow the public to support them, showing 
their marks as credentials. I saw a muni once, measuring the 
entire distance across India, from one side to the other, by 
lying down, and stretching his hands as far before him as 
possible, and making a mark with his fingers. Then, putting 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 139 

his toes'to that mark, he would He down again ; and so on 
for the fourteen hundred miles." 

Scott whisded, and stretched himself a litde more com- 
fortably in the buggy. 

" It makes my back ache," he remarked with a sigh. 

" Look there ! " added Mr. Raymond, pointing to a group 




WANDERING MUNIS. 



of men in various costumes, resting about the roots and trunk 
of an old tree in the open parade-ground. " Those are munis, 
and they are not bad-looking fellows." 

"They're a bad lot!" said Scott with a shiver, — "worse 
than our gypsies, I believe. But do they bruise themselves 
that way just to make begging pay?" 

" They pretend that they do it for religion," replied his 
friend. "And I fancy a good deal of it is for the attention 



, ,„ OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and glory they get. They very often make an oath of silence 
for some number of years, and refuse to speak a word, or 
pay any attention to any one, in that time. Some of them 
used to have a trick of going round stark naked, pretending 
that they were too holy for clothes ; but the English Govern- 
ment has been arresting them lately for it, and now they are 
more careful." 

"They must like something or other about it more than 
I do," remarked Scott. 

Just then the buggy stopped at the temple gate, and Scott 
and Richard went into the court-yard. Early Monday morning 
they were on their way southward into the cool, bracing air 
of the mountains. The moment the cars started there was 
immediate relief; for the first-class carriages of the English 
trains in India have been made expressly to combat the heat, 
which is sometimes intolerable, especially when running 
through the dry and open sand plains. 

It was night when they reached Puna, and Scott had little 
opportunity to see the beautiful, yet miserable, mountain city. 
Mr. Raymond's large coach and fiery horses were at the station 
to hurry them up to the grand old home, in a grove, facing a 
beautiful pond, or fish tank, with marble edges. A more 
gorgeous spot Scott had never seen. Here they passed two 
restful days, and, on the morning of the third received an 
invitation from the native King of Baroda to visit him, and 
see one of his great elephant and rhinoceros fights. 

Before setting out they made an interesting visit to a 
harem, where Scott was given a beautiful little painting on 
ivory by one of the Hindu ladies. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 141 




CHAPTER IX. 

AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDB. 

HEN they reached their bungalow again, which was 
not till two o'clock in the morning, Scott showed 
the ivory portrait to Mr. Raymond. 

" There is a souvenir indeed ! " he exclaimed. 
** It could not be bought for five hundred dollars. In fact, 
it could not be bought at all. It is one of the relics of 
India's palmy days, under the glorious reign of the great 
Moguls." 

" She's an odd stick, according to this picture," said Scott ; 
"but what in the world is that that she has got beside her? 
Is it a snake ? " 

" It's only a hookah'' said Richard. 

" A hookah ! To smoke ? Great Caesar's ghost ! Why, 
it's a regular hose-pipe. I don't wonder she got a jaw like 
that, puffing away on such a thing. What awful bellows she 
must have had to work it ! 

** By the way," he continued a moment later, " what were 
those things they had to hold their tea in?" 

" I do not know," replied Richard. " I was never in a 
harem." . 

"Never?" asked Scott in surprise. Had it been a few 
years later, Richard would doubtless have replied, "Well, 
hardly ever;" but, as it was, he stuck to his first proposi- 
tion. 



142 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



*' No, never ! nor has any other European man, or native 
either, as for that, except in his own. You have done a 
wonderful thing; and you will not find one in a hundred, who 
knows any thing about India, who will believe you when you 
tell him. However, I would be very careful, and not speak 
of it till after you are out of India, as it might bring reproach 
on the kindness of our friend." 

The next thing was the arena ; and, preparing themselves 
for the day as soon as breakfast was over, they started for 
the palace, where a large throng was already collected. The 
nobles were gathered upon a balcony, where mats were laid 
for those who wished them, and arm-chairs for the Europeans, 
of whom there were nearly a score. Opposite them there 
was a raised platform, where those of the populace who could 
gain admission were permitted to sit ; and the roofs and win- 
dows and trees in every direction were crowded. 

Horsemen of the royal body-guard were about the gate 
as they entered, proudly displaying their horsemanship, which 
was, indeed, something well worth seeing. 

In the arena, which was an enormous square, two large 
male elephants were fastened by heavy chains, far apart from 
each other ; and outside, on a low hill, three female elephants 
were standing, where they could overlook the entertainment. 

" Elephants are something like men," the king said to 
Scott, as they seated themselves. "They always show off 
their best prowess when the ladies are looking on." 

Indeed, the male elephants seemed fully to appreciate the 
occasion, and were furiously dashing about in their chains, 
eager to test their strength. 

" What makes them so much more excited than other 
elephants?" asked Scott. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 143 

"They have been fed on butter and sugar and rice and 
spices for the last three months," repHed the king, "to make 
them what we call ' musti,' or vicious." 

All around the high stone wall that fenced in the en- 
closure, there were little doors about as high as a man, and 
as broad as a man. Mr. Raymond explained that these were 
for the natives to dodge into, and escape the furious elephants 
when they went into the arena, and were chased by them. 

" I could do that myself," said Scott. But when he saw 
the struggle begin, and the lightning rapidity with which 
those huge animals would turn about, face any one who 
annoyed them, and charge across the field, he made up his 
mind that he would rather be excused. 

The time came at last, and two men approached the two 
angry elephants. 

Scott started to his feet. They were going very near. 
He thought they must surely be killed. 

" There is no harm," said the king, who had taken a 
seat beside Scott. " They are the keepers. The elephants 
know them, and are never so angry that they will injure 
them." 

It was a fact ; for the fellows went deliberately up to the 
animals, and even made them take them on their trunks, and 
lift them to their heads. 

" They're going to have the front seats in this show," 
Scott observed to Mr. Raymond, as other natives came in, 
and loosed the irons and chains about their legs ; but, a mo- 
ment after, he forgot about talking altogether. 

The two animals started for each other the moment they 
found they were free. There was only a shrieking whistle 
from each as a signal, and they came together. The two 



144 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

great heads struck with a fearful blow ; and the tusks, that 
were cut short that they might not injure each other, 
clattered and rang with the rapid strokes that only lasted for 
an instant, and then all was still. 

The keepers had been obliged to cling for life to prevent 
themselves from being thrown off in the first blow; and the 
enormous bodies of the elephants had been lifted till their 
fore-feet were swinging in the air, as, with all their mighty 
strength, they pushed against each other with their hind-feet. 

The moment they were still they began twisting their 
great trunks round each other ; but that was the only motion, 
as each keeper urged his elephant on, and each animal laid 
every jot of power that he possessed into the muscles of those 
hind-legs. 

Scott was trembling with excitement. The king even be- 
came so interested in the struggle, that he got up, and leaned 
against a pillar of the balcony. 

" Look! " said Richard. "That fellow at the left is giving 
way." 

" Why, he is pushing the other backward ! " replied Scott 
excitedly. 

"■ Yes ; but he'll turn. See ! " And sure enough, having 
made that desperate effort, and thrown the other from his 
balance, he turned suddenly, and ran toward the stable-door. 

"What made him do that, when he was getting the best 
of it? He's a regular blockhead," said Scott scornfully. 

"That was the last jump," replied Richard. "He saw 
that his strength was giving way. He did not stop to think 
that his opponent had been weakened by modern improve- 
ments, and had lost the sharp points to his tusks ; but instinct 
told him, that, if he turned and ran, the other fellow would 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE, 145 

Stab him in the side, and that, if he stood there much longer, 
he would be doubled over backward. So, when he found 
that he had got to go, he gave the other fellow a push that 
made him lose his balance ; and, while he was settling on his 
feet again, he escaped." 

Irons were put on to the vanquished elephant's feet, and 
he was led away. He did not make much objection. He 
seemed to feel ashamed of himself. The other fellow swelled 
up his sides with pride, swung his trunk in the air, looked up 
at the female elephants on the hill, and then looked around 
him for new worlds to conquer. 

He did not have to wait long; for a dozen natives, naked 
to the waist, with shaven heads and very small turbans and 
the most meagre of breeches, ran into the arena. They were 
stalwart, finely-formed fellows. 

" They are dressed rather thin : I envy them," said Scott, 
as he wiped the perspiration of excitement from his forehead. 

"That is so that the elephants will have nothing to take 
hold of," replied the king. 

"Why, what are they going to do?" asked Scott. 

"Those fellows with lances are going to have a sham fight 
with him ; and the men with poles have fuses in the end, 
which they set off in the elephant's face, in case of accident, 
to frighten him, and prevent him from doing any hurt." 

"Is no one ever killed?" asked Scott. 

" I never saw one killed," replied the king ; " though my 
English friends tell me it is reported in their country that 
deaths are very frequent." 

Now the fellows with the lances began a tirade upon the 
elephant; and, as the sharp points stuck into him, he would 
whirl one way, and then another, after the men, who would 



146 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

fly from him, while others on the other side attacked him. 
But at last he seemed to hit upon one who had either worried 
him more than the rest, or who had something peculiar about 
him by which he could identify him. Then he made for him ; 
and the poor fellow had to use his legs with might and main 
to escape him. Sometimes the shave was so close, that the 
elephant could not stop himself, and would bang his head 
into the wall over one of the doors, that was too small for 
him to go through. 

. This seemed to be the thing jthat was sought for by the 
men in the arena; for the crowd considered it the very best 
of jokes, and applauded vehemently. 

Then a horseman came in. His horse was a very graceful 
creature, until he turned round ; but his tail was not only cut 
off very short, but clipped beside, so that the elephant could 
not take hold of it. 

Scott thought this performance the most interesting part 
of all ; and the least interesting, that part upon which most 
stress was laid as the great occasion of the day, — the rhi- 
noceros-fight, when two of those clumsy animals were driven 
into the arena from opposite sides. 

They no sooner saw each other (or heard each other, for 
they can only see a very short distance) than they began a 
lumbering trot, intent upon meeting. This trot grew faster, 
till in the centre they were going almost as fast as the ele- 
phants. But they had not aimed exactly right, and were too 
clumsy to turn. The result was, that they shot past each other, 
and brought up at opposite sides of the arena. 

A shout went up froni the spectators. The king and his 
guests roared with laughter ; and the animals roared with pas- 
sion, as they turned and again charged, only to miss as before. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 147 

This time they were not going so fast, however, and the 
third time brought them together. Then they fought furiously 
with their horns, almost as though educated fencers, till one 
made a lucky stroke, and fixed his horn under the other's 
throat, — their only vulnerable point, — that instinct told him 
was the place to make the attack. The other, by instinct, 
parried this blow by twisting his head suddenly, so as to bring 






J 



""" T, 






%£m 





■=- -^'aF^^^ggg^-^^-^fc^^-^ wjr^«y 



RHINOCEROS FIGHT. 



the horn against his jaw, instead of his throat, where it could 
do no harm. 

"That last elephant out was the Executioner," said the 
king to Mr. Raymond a little later, while they were eating 
an elaborate lunch upon the balcony. " Did you recognize 
him ? " 

" I did, your highness," replied Richard ; " and, with your 



148 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

permission, I would like to take my friend to the stable to 
see him before we go." 

" I will go with you," replied the king ; and, in a few min- 
utes, he rose and led the way. He walked about the great 
stables, talking with the men he met there exactly as though 
he were one of them. He would take Scott by the arm, and 
lead him here and there to obtain the best views of the fettered 
animals. He had a menagerie that would have excelled all 
the circus combinations of America ; and many times, as they 
were talking and laughing, Scott stopped suddenly, and looked 
up into his face. Could it be that he was one of those hor- 
rible heathen kings that were painted in "Arabian Nights" 
tales, even in some very modern and professedly very accurate 
literature ! 

"Why do you call him the Executioner?" he asked, as 
they passed the cages, and approached the enormous ele- 
phant. 

" Why, because, years and years ago, when our good friend 
Mr. Raymond and I were little fellows, they used to have a 
way of executing prisoners that was so severe, that, as soon 
as we began to pick up bright ideas from the foreigners, we 
abolished it. They made this old elephant the executioner, 
and he enjoyed his work hugely." 

" How in the world did you make him executioner?" asked 
Scott. 

" Mr. Raymond saw one of the last executions that took 
place," replied the king. " It was then that I met him for 
the first time. He is more than half responsible for its being 
abolished, and for my being here to-day. He will tell you 
about it." 

"Why is he called the Executioner, Mr. Raymond?" Scott 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 149 

asked abruptly, coming up to Mr. Raymond when the king 
left him. Mr. Raymond started. He was evidently thinking 
deeply of something past. But in a moment he replied, — 

" When a man was convicted, they used to tie him to this 
elephant's heels, and let him be dragged through the public 
streets ; and, if that did not kill him, after a certain time they 
laid his head upon a block, and the elephant went deliber- 
ately up, and put his fore-foot on it, resting all his weight 
possible on that foot." 

Scott looked up at that towering beast, so much larger 
than any he had ever seen, and shuddered, as he thought of 
what those huge feet had done. 

But the thought of the other questions that he had to 
ask drew Scott from the fearful sight ; and he said, — 

'* Will you please tell me, Mr. Raymond, — the king told 
me to ask you, and said you would, — how it was that you 
put a stop to that style of punishment, and are responsible 
for his being the king to-day ? " 

Richard turned clear about, and looked him in the eye 
for a moment. Then, with a light laugh, he muttered, "Stuff! 
You must not believe, Scott, all that these complimentary 
Orientals have to say." 

They remained but a day longer at Baroda. 

" I am in haste to be off," said Mr. Raymond, " for we 
must have important news at Allahabad soon. It will hardly 
take us longer to go by gar^'i to Burhampur ; and by that 
means you can have a taste of very different travel, and see 
the first of the famous marble banks of the Narbada River. 
We cut off two long sides of a triangle in not going back 
again to Bombay, as we should have to, to go by rail." 

Scott did not see the garri till all was ready for the 



i=;o 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Start. It came the night before, and was made ready before 
he was up in the morning. 

" What a wagon ! " was his first exclamation. 

" It is the regular dak garri, or post-chaise," replied 
Richard, laughing. " I intended hiring one of our own ; but. 




THE DAK GARRI. 



finding that the regular weekly post left this morning, which 
would secure us a much surer lot of fresh horses and a certain 
progress, I thought we would take it." 

" So we are going to carry the mail, are we? And what's 
that bed in there for?" 

" To sleep on at night," replied Richard. 

"At night? What will the hotel-keepers say?" 

"In two hours we shall be beyond where they know so 
much as the name. You'll see no more comforts, my boy, 
till you strike the railroad again." 

" Jew-pe-ter ! " said Scott. " That's not so bad. But I 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



1=^1 



suppose we stop ten minutes now and then for refresh- 
ments." 

Comfortably seated on camp-chairs, with the mattress dis- 
posed of in one end, and Moro and Sayad rolled up in one 
corner, they started off. Scott, as ever, was on the alert for 
every thing new; and "What is this?" and "What is that?" 
seeming to live upon the tip of his tongue. 

" Look at that," Richard said, as they were entering the 
first village. " That is a Mohammedan slaughter-house." 

"Hope they've stuck it outside the village far enough," 




THE SLAUGHTER-HOtTSE. 



said Scott. "They must have the monopoly there, or they'd 
put it in where rents might be a litde higher ; but the patron- 
age would be enough better to pay." 

"It wouldn't do here," replied Mr. Raymond. "This is 
a Marathi country, where every thing is Hindu. The Hindus 
don't believe in killing any thing, you know, and, most of 
all, a cow. So, if the Mussulmans want meat to eat, they 
have to come out here and get it, where it will not shock 
the nerves of the Hindus." 



J ^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Why don't they import it from somewhere, and done 
with it?" asked Scott. 

" Because they are so particular about the way it is killed. 
To make a piece of meat set well on a Mussulman's stomach, 
it must come from an animal that has had a prayer said over 
it while it was alive, and then been killed at a single blow, 
in the name of God." 

" I should hate to be a butcher," muttered Scott. 

They had nothing to complain of as to the speed of their 
conveyance. They had two horses, and sometimes three, 
harnessed one before the other, and native drivers, who, 
every one in turn, would boast that he could drive faster 
than any other man on the line, and then proceed to prove 
it. 

While they were changing horses, however, Scott obtained 
many an interesting view of native life. Once a curious 
individual was coming down the street, dressed in limitless 
rags, and shouting at the top of his lungs. 

'' A fakir f Scott said, turning to Mr. Raymond, 

"Not this time, but next to it, — a doctor on his way to 
visit some sick person." 

" Heaven have mercy on the sick man's soul ! " groaned 
Scott. 

" You would say so, indeed, if you could follow that doctor," 
replied Richard.- " He will go to the house ; and unless some 
simple little thing is the matter, that he understands instantly, 
requiring some simple cure, he will begin and beat the poor 
patient, to make him confess that he has offended some god. 
Ten to one, the sick person has done something wrong within 
a short time, and will confess it. The doctor will advise 
the family to pay some some sort of a sacrifice ; tell them. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 153 

that, if the god that is offended Is satisfied with their worship, 
the sick man will get well, and, if not, he will die. Then he 
will collect his fee, and go away." 

" I shouldn't think his practice would increase much at 
that rate," said Scott. 

" On the contrary, the more people who die under his 
care, the greater man he is thought to be. They say the 
doctor can only advise them, and that life and death are in the 
hands of God. Once, when I was going through one of these 
villages, I saw a poor fellow bitten by a snake ; and, having 
the antidote with me, I applied it instantly, and saved his 
life, to the astonishment of every one. But, as soon as it 
was sure that he was going to live, the family said, ' The 
wicked snake made a mistake that time : he nmst have bitten 
the wrong man.' " 

" That's interesting," said Scott. " You must have felt 
rewarded for your trouble. Is that the way they do business 
all over India?" 

"That is the old style; but they are losing faith in it, 
thanks to modern civilization. In the large modern medical 
college of Madras they even admit women, and have several 
ladies there, who are actually taking the laurels away from 
the men." 

"Why, they won't let an American lady take a medical 
diploma in Harvard College," said Scott in surprise. 

"That's a fact, Scott," returned his friend; "but it would 
astonish these benighted heathen to tell them so." 

"That is a pottery, that we are passing now," he added 
a moment later. " See that fellow moulding with one hand 
and one foot, and that woman turning a reel with her hand, 
and moulding with both feet." 



154 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" That's doing business on all fours, — or three of them, 
at least," said Scott. "Is that where they make the stuff 
that our girls paint, and stick up on the shelf, and think so 
precious?" he added. 

"That is one of the very places; and it may be that 
you'll have one of those very jars some day, all covered with 




A NATIVE POXTEBT. 



daisies, standing in the hall, pretending to hold umbrellas, 
when one wet one would spoil it." 

"How much do they cost?," Scott asked, with an eye to 
business. 

" Four or five cents apiece," replied Richard ; and they 
drove on. 

They reached the last station that they were to pass in 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



155 



the garri ; and sending Moro on with the baggage to wait 
for them at the next, — where they would meet him, and 
take another mode of conveyance over the mountains to the 
railway station, — Mr. Raymond and Scott, accompanied by 
Sayad, left the carriage, to make the next stage by the river. 
It was a little village, where the Narbada lay before them, 
stretching over a broad and beautiful plain. 



F^ 




NARBADA RIVEK. 



White-marble rocks glistened in every direction, emphasized 
by the dense green of the foliage and the profusion of flowers. 
A litde boat lay against the bank: there was no wharf. In 
this boat they disposed themselves. It was late in the after- 
noon when the boatmen began to pull them up the river. 

The scene was inexpressibly beautiful. Long shadows crept 
across the water, and the boat was perfectly mirrored in that 



156 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

absolutely rippleless surface. There was not a motion of leaf 
or twig. Not a bird flew, or a bee hummed, in the still air ; 
and even the splash of the oars seemed to die on the water 
before it had gone far from the source. Up, up, up the river, 
slowly they went ; and down, down, down into the west, the 
sun sank. 

Scott thought he could almost see the sun dropping, as 
he saw the boat move ; but suddenly it appeared to him that 
it was dropping over a broad plain that they were leaving ; 
while, to rise again, it must come up beyond a high bluff 
that rose almost perpendicularly, over two hundred feet high, 
out of the water. He had understood that they had a long 
row before them ; as the boatmen pulled very slowly, and that 
there was a strong current against them. He saw no current, 
and looked in astonishment at that impregnable abutment of 
marble that effectually cut off any farther progress. 

"What's the matter, Mr. Raymond?" he asked. 

"Are you tired of this scene?" his friend responded. " If 
so, it will be changed in a moment, and you will have quite 
another. Keep your eyes aft. Don't look forward, or it will 
hurt the surprise." 

Scott obeyed, and in a few minutes realized that the water 
was bubbling and boiling about the boat ; and, by the way 
the boatmen grunted and half exploded in their eternal song, 
he knew that they must be having hard work. 

Still he kept his eyes aft, and watched the glow growing 
redder and redder on the water, that had been of the clearest 
azure when they started. 

He thought of the "Arabian Nights," and of some of 
those wonderful transformations, — of water-babies, with Mother 
Be-done-by-as-you-did putting a bandage on little Tom's eyes 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 157 

with one hand, while she took it off with the other ; and 
how Tom found, that, in that twinkling, he had been taken 
up those wonderful and mysterious back-stairs, and was in a 
new world. 

And yet Scott was wholly unprepared for the remarkable 
transformation, when Mr. Raymond said to him, — 

" Now, Scott, shut your eyes, turn round, and then open 
them." 

Scott obeyed ; and, when he had opened his eyes, he 
started back in astonishment, and even forgot to say any 
thing about great Caesar's ghost. 

Instead of that broad mirror of silent, rose-red water, they 
were in the midst of a dashing, gurgling torrent, black as night. 
Instead of the sparkling white and green and blue, and the 
forests in the distance, there rose upon either side of him 
high walls, — high as the spires of the churches of Boston, 
— flashing and white as hoar-frost ; one solid, unbroken bank 
on either side, and only sixty feet apart. Instead of the abso- 
lute quiet that had reigned over all, there was a bedlam of 
chattering everywhere, for those marble walls were literally 
lined with monkeys ; and, the moment the boat entered the 
gorge, they began to chatter, while, far up against the blue 
sky, the tiny forms of peacocks could plainly be discerned, 
spreading their gorgeous tails in the sunlight, as it flashed 
along the upper cliffs. 

"What a shot!" Scott exclaimed when his admiration had 
cooled sufficiently for him to appreciate the fact that an 
enormous monkey was hanging, head down, over the water, 
cle_arly outlined against the marble, and only a hundred feet 
ahead of them. He went forward to get his rifle, that he 
had laid in the prow. 



158 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

''Better not shoot at him, Scott; for you might possibly 
miss," suggested Richard. 

"What of it?" asked Scott, still preparing to shoot. "Then, 
again, I might hit ; and, if I did, I should have a stuffed mon- 
key to carry home." 

" Do you see those little brown balls all over everywhere?" 
asked Richard, pointing up the ragged sides of the cliffs. 

"What are they?" asked Scott. 

" Bees' nests," returned Richard solemnly. 

"Bother the bees' nests!" said Scott. "I've seen them 
before in Massachusetts." 

" But you might glance your ball, and shake one of them," 
added Richard demurely. 

"What are they, — hornets?" asked Scott. 

" Honey-bees," returned Mr. Raymond. 
" Humph ! " replied Scott, as he shouldered his rifle. 
" Honey-bees can't see but thirty-eight feet anyway." 

"That rnay be; but they always manage to get within 
thirty-seven feet of any thing they want to sting," suggested 
Richard, so gravely that Scott lost his balance, and let his 
rifle fall, while he stopped to laugh. 

" We might get some honey by it ; and I'll risk the sting- 
ing if you will," he said a moment later, as the monkey, who 
had moved a few feet farther up the river, came into another 
position quite as good as the first. 

" There'll not be much honey," replied Richard. " Those 
bees are neither used to working for the market, nor laying 
up a stock for a long winter. They only make for home 
consumption on rainy days, and it gives them a deal of time 
to spend in keeping their stings in working order. I'm 
inclined to think you'd find more sting than honey." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 159 

Scott hesitated again. 

" Did you ever hear of any one getting badly stung here?" 
he asked. 

" I was floating down this gorge years ago, prospecting 
with an EngHsh engineer. We were all alone in the boat ; 
for we were going down stream, and the boat was very small. 




THE MARBLE GORGE. 



Halfway down he fired at a big monkey, and brought down 
a bees' nest. I saw it fall, but thought nothing of it, till, 
in a moment, the very air seemed full of insects. They were 
as large as New-England black hornets. They sighted the 
boat. They settled down on us like hail. I had on only a 
thin shirt and linen breeches. Three or four of them stung 
me, and that was quite enough. There were as many as fifty 
upon me, looking out for a good place to begin. ' Jump for 



l6o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

your life ! ' cried the Englishman ; and, as he was my superior 
in the engineering party, I obeyed without waiting an instant, 
supposing that he followed me. I swam under water with the 
swift current ; but the fellows followed me, and every time I 
put my head above water to breathe, for over a mile, they 
were right upon me. At last I was beyond them and out 
of the gorge. I crawled up on to the bank down there ; and, 
while I waited for the boat, I picked off thirty-two of those 
bees, that had clung to me till they drowned. A little later 
the boat came down the stream. I swam out to it ; and 
there, in the bottom, lay the poor English engineer dead." 

'* Stung to death by these bees," said Scott with a shudder. 

" Stung to death," repeated Mr. Raymond. 

Scott laid down his rifle, and looked on in silence, as the 
sun set, and the moon rose white and clear over that spar- 
kling gorge. 

The crying of the peacocks, the chattering of the monkeys, 
the buzzing of the bees, — all was still. Now and then a fish 
rose ; and once they passed a lumbering crocodile lazily 
pushing himself up against the current. Where a moonbeam 
by chance reached the water, they could follow the shivering 
shaft far down into the black depths, and even see the white 
sides of the fish flashing in the light. 

" It must be good fishing here," Scott said a little later. 

"The fishing is good enough, but the fish are poor: they 
are soft." 

" There are not many caught, I should think, by the number 
left," said Scott. 

" Only the very poor people live on them," replied Mr. 
Raymond. "It is a curious thing : almost everywhere we are 
told that fish are good for brain-food ; but here, — in this 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. i6i 

region at least, — if a man is an idiot, or if one man or 
woman wants to call another a fool, they simply say 'fish- 
eater,' and that covers the whole ground." 

They slept in the boat that night, and in the morning 
found themselves made fast to a little landing, where an ox- 
garri, that Moro had sent for them, waited. 

It was not a two-days' trip over the hills : but, as it would 
take more than one daylight, Mr. Raymond thought it best 
to make two days of it, especially as they were a day earlier 
than they expected to be ; and he did not wish to have Scott 
overtax his strength. 

The passes through the hills were not bad. They were 
to go all the way in ox-garris ; but there were no springs, 
and only two wheels ; and, as the bullocks started off at a 
trot, with a relentless driver seated on the pole between them, 
Scott was bounced up and down till he eagerly welcomed 
the rising ground that should force them to walk. The ser- 
vants and baggage came on in another garri. There were 
four extra coolies hired to push and pull if a wheel got into 
a rut, or in going up a hill so steep that the bullocks quietly 
refused to undertake it, which several times occurred. There 
was also a head servant to conduct the affairs ; making a 
retinue of nine servants, four bullocks, and two wagons, to 
do the work that one hack, two horses, and a hackman would 
have done in America. 

" It must be rather expensive travelling in this way," said 
Scott ; " but it makes a fellow feel like a nabob." 

Richard replied, "This fellow contracts 'to take us for 
the two days, and guarantees to land us safely or but half 
pay, for just four cents a mile. Then, our food by the way 
will cost perhaps a dollar more. The most expensive thing we 
have done so far was to visit the king." 



l62 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" What ! didn't he pay the bills while we were his guests ? 
That's a pretty kind of hospitality ! " said Scott. 

" Oh, yes ! he paid all the bills," replied Mr. Raymond ; 
"but that was not the worst of it. He furnished us over 
twenty servants, including the elephant mahuts ; and ever)' 
night, and the morning we left, the whole troop of them came 




LIKE THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 



for backsheesh, or presents. It is their custom. It cost about 
ten dollars a day just to keep them going. 

At the foot of the hills they plunged into the forest, and 
began the gradual climb. Pointing to the scraggy branches 
of gnarled trees growing on the opposite hillside, Mr. Raymond 
said, " Look at those, Scott. They are the famous deodas. 
They are the same as the cedars of Lebanon. These are not 
remarkable specimens ; but if we get up as far as the Hima- 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. i6 



J 



laya Mountains, which for your sake I hope we shall not, 
you'll see forests, miles in extent, where these trees averao-e 
over two hundred feet in height." 

Every hour the jungle became more dense. 

" See that tree covered with snow ! " Scott cried, as they 
rounded a hill, and approached another valley. 

"It is not snow, Scott," said Mr. Raymond : "it is only 
one of the moss-oaks that has wandered out of Scind, where 
they are very plenty. In some of those valleys you would 
certainly think there had been a heavy fall of snow. The 
leaves are such a black-green that the sparkling moss looks 
even whiter than it really is." 

Moro ran past them while they were talking, and disap- 
peared in the jungle. 

" There's a village clown there," Richard explained, — " one 
of the aboriginal towns. Moro came through here once before 
with me, and I fancy he made a friend there that he wants 
to see." 

A little later they had turned the hill themselves ; and 
Scott, who was looking eagerly forward, seeing only a few low 
mounds, with tlie road running past them, and Moro sitting 
on one side of the road, and two almost naked fellows on 
the other, exclaimed in disgust, — 

"A village! I should call it a graveyard. I can see a few 
tombs, but where in the world is the village ? " 

" You can't see much of the village, for it is all under 
ground," replied his friend. "The aboriginal tribes do not 
pay much more attention to architecture than their fathers 
did, which was none at all. Those are the roofs of the houses 
that you see. The houses are all one hole scooped out of 
earth underneath." 



1 64 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Cool place to board in the summer-time," said Scott, 
who began to feel the oppressive heat of the enclosed valley. 

"When Moro and I came through here, we were obliged 
to stop for two nights and a day in this town," replied Richard. 
"There was as severe a storm as I ever saw in these hills. 
We were glad enough to reach here, I assure you ; and, as 




XHE MOUNTAIN VILLAGE. 



there was no hotel in the place, we put up at the largest 
private residence." 

"Hotel!" exclaimed Scott. " Why, there are only five of 
those things you call houses in the whole valley." 

" Certainly," replied Mr. Raymond. " Three of them form 
the centre, don't you see, and they have the flag there for 
voting-day ; and then there are two more in the suburbs." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 165 

'• But the hotel ! " said Scott again. 

" I said there was none," responded Richard. 

" Of course there was none ! " exclaimed Scott. 

"Certainly: you are quite right," returned Richard; and 
Scott began to realize that he was unnecessarily interrupting 
a stor}^ 

"Well, we put up at that largest private residence: you'll 
see it in a minute. There it is down under the rocks there, 
to the right of the flag. When we got into the cellar, — 
that is all there is to it, — we found that it was a two-tene- 
ment house. There was no partition-wall ; but, by common 
consent, the goats lived in one half and the human beings 
lived in the other ; and the weather was so bad that the 
whole of both families were at home. There were a little 
over a dozen of the goats, but there were more than two 
dozen of the human beings. The goats were the cleaner by 
far; for they were out-doors more, and had some of the dirt 
brushed off: so, for both comfort and elbow-room, we put 
up with the goats. Do you see that hole in the top ? " 

"That square hole? Yes," said Scott. "What is it, — 
a window ? " 

" We thought so," replied Mr. Raymond ; "for it is the only 
opening they had ; and, as that roof is two feet thick, it lets 
in only a little light at the best. But right under it, there is 
a hole in the floor like a washbowl, in which they have their 
fire. I spoke of the hole as a window. The old fellow cor- 
rected me. He said it was a chimney ; but that chimney was 
the only place in the whole house where that smoke did not 
go. It hung about the house till it died for want of exercise. 
The old fellow had a lot of eggs in a basket in one corner. 
He said he was waiting till some of his people went on a 



1 66 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



pilgrimage, to take them, and sell them in the crowd. The 
old fellow sold them very cheap. I took two dozen, and he 
urged me to take more. He even gave me a dozen ; for he 
said they were of no value to him, as he had set them so 
many times that his people did not like them, and he could 
not make one of them hatch." 

" Did you like the eggs? " Scott asked, as the gharri drew 
up at a little brook to give the bullocks water. 

" It didn't matter much," replied Richard ; "for all I gave 
the man to cover my entire indebtedness was an old felt hat, 
an old coat, and a white umbrella. The fellow rigged himself 
out in them, and, with his seven wives arranged in a circle 
about his door, q;ave me a most honorable farewell." 




TEE OLD MAN AND HIS WIVES. 



The next village they entered was of greater importance 
and more modern. A Hindu driving a bullock-load of straw 
down the street stopped to look at them. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. I 07 

"That's the first time I have seen any one pay us so 
much attention since we landed," said Scott, "Why, if you 
should set one of these fellows down in America, the whole 
country would be at his heels every time he showed his head 
out-of-doors." 




A HINDU DRIVING BULLOCKS. 



"That is partly because they see more of us over here, 
but chiefly because they are very different people, and thor- 
oughly believe that whatever is, is right. They take thmgs 
as they are, and care very little about what happens so that 
they are let alone. That is one of the worst features of the 
Hindu character. In Bengal," he added, " they call that fellow 
a raiyat; and the straw he has on his wagon is rice, or 
padi as they say. It just turns American notions of civil 
disturbances upside down." 



i6S OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"That's a fact," said Scott, laughing; "for it makes the 
raiyat raise the padi, while with us it is the Paddy that 
raises the riot. Good enough ! " 

They stopped for the night at the Dak Bungalow, — some- 
thing that takes the place of the old caravan-sarai, which 
still exists in many parts of the country. 

The Dak Bungalow was at the extreme end of the village. 
It was a picturesque little place, just on the border of a 
mountain lake, that reflected the hills opposite and the dense 
foliage like a mirror. Little native boats were slowly moving 
over the lake. The two travellers hired one for an anna 
(less than three cents) for as long as they wished it, and 
pushed out. 

" What a beautiful spot ! " Scott exclaimed, looking up the 
steep hillsides, seeming to rise almost perpendicularly from 
the water on one side, while, on the other, rhododendrons 
grew more luxuriantly than he had ever seen them in America, 
to the very water's edge ; and white and red roses, in wild 
forests, filled the air with perfume. 

In the morning they were up early, for they had ordered 
the men to be ready at five o'clock for the start. They ate 
their breakfast, and waited. Nothing was to be seen of any 
one. 

"Where are they?" asked Scott. 

" Lounging about somewhere," replied Richard carelessly. 

They waited an hour. No one appeared. 

"You paid that fellow in advance, didn't you?" asked 
Scott. 

"I paid him half: that is the custom. No native will do 
any thing unless he obtain something in advance. For the 
rest, it was safe delivery or no pay." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 169 

"I'll bet he's gone off," said Scott. 

"You'll lose your money if you do," replied Richard, 
laughing. " He's only lying round here somewhere, waiting 
for us to grow anxious, and offer him extra pay to go 
on." 

" Let's hire some one else," said Scott indignantly. 

" We can't do it, and he knows it," replied Richard. 
" There's not a vehicle in town that would take us." 

"Then we are at his mercy," growled Scott. 

" To some extent we are." 

Just then one of the coolies came up. 

"Where is your master?" asked Richard. 

" Don't know, Sahib," replied the fellow. 

Richard lay down carelessly upon the bed ; and, calling 
to the keeper of the bungalow, he said, — 

" Have dinner ready for us at noon." 

The coolie did not seem inclined to move on ; and at 
length Richard said to him, — 

"Is your master still in the village?" 

" Yes, Sahib : he is down on the lake, fishing," he replied. 

" Go, and tell him that he may take his team, and drive 
back ; and I will send on one of my servants for another 
garri. I did not like the way he drove yesterday." 

" I am not hired to do errands : I must be paid for it," 
replied the coolie solemnly. 

Richard threw him a copper, and he went away. 

" Will he tell him that ? " Scott asked, when the conversation 
had been explained to him. 

" Not by any means," replied Richard, laughing. " He 
will go no farther than the village drinking-shop ; and there he 
will stop, and drink and smoke till the money is gone. Then 



170 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

he will come back for more. In the mean time the rest of 
the servants will appear, one by one." 

He was quite correct. One after another they came, in 
quick succession ; and each easily obtained his copper, and 
went off upon his errand. 

"What are you doing that for?" asked Scott indig- 
nantly. 

'* It's less than eight cents," replied Richard ; " and now I 
am sure of them all. They are all at the coffee-house. Pretty 
soon the head man will turn up ; and we will go down there 
with him, and start the whole lot of them together. Before 
we could not have found more than one at a time." 

While he was speaking, the first coolie came back again. 

"■ Aha ! " said Richard with a smile. " This is a new 
game. The leader has sent this fellow for his copper, instead 
of coming himself. It would be about as well to give it to 
him, and then go down, and take the whole ; but, instead, 
we'll have a little fun out of it." Then, turning to the coolie, 
he said quietly, — 

"Did you find him?" 

" Yes, Sahib," he replied ; '* and he said he would come 
at once." 

"Is he here?" 

" No, Sahib : I do not see him." 

"Then he did not come." 

" No, Sahib. He had gone down the lake." 

" But you said that you found him." 

" How could I, Sahib ? He was not there." 

" Do you know where he is now ? " 

" Yes, Sahib, I saw the boat coming back over the lake> 
and I came here at once to tell you." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



171 



" Very well," said Richard, half rising. " We will go down 
to the lake, and meet him, and tell him ourselves." 

" But before this, Sahib, he will have landed and gone 
away," said the coolie, not at all disconcerted. 

" I can find him," replied Richard. 

" I will find him for you, Sahib, and bring him here for 
a half anna!' 

" Very well. Bring him here, and I will give you two 
annas. I want to thrash him." 

"When the Sahib pays me half in advance, I will go," 
replied the coolie. 

" Get out ! " said Richard, starting to his feet. " 1 want 
to go down on the lake to sail now, and I don't want to be 
bothered." 

The coolie started off; and, in less than two minutes, the 
leader came hurrying up to the bungalow. 

"O Sahib!" he cried, falling on his knees, "I am in 
terrible misery. I have been hunting all the time for a lost 
ox. He strayed away during the night. I'm a poor man : 
the loss will kill me and all my dear family. Help me, 
Maharajah ; help a poor dying man." 

" But one of your garri wallahs told me you were down 
on the lake, fishing," said Richard. 

"The fellow is a liar and a dog!" exclaimed the leader 
fiercely. " May he eat dirt, and be defiled ! May the wind 
be in his bones ! If I lie, master, may the sin be upon my 
head ! " 

" Then, we will start with one team, and hire some coolies 
here to drag the luggage," said Richard. 

" But, master, two of the other oxen are sick : they cannot 
move. Oh, I am undone ! I am undone ! " 



172 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" We will wait till to-morrow, and let them get well." 

" They will not get well : they are dying, Sahib. And, 
beside, there is a party coming from the South to-day — a 
very large party — who will require the bungalow. The Sahib 
has no tents : what can he do ? " 

" Do ? Why, I will start on, and walk. I'll pay enough 
to induce the whole village to come out, and carry me on 
their backs. Don't fear. There are a hundred things I can 
do. If you are not here with the two teams in just half an 
hour, I shall do something, but I shall not go with you." 

" If the Sahib would give a little present to a poor man " — 

" But I shall not give you a present, and in a half-hour 
I shall not be here." 

" An hour. Sahib ! an hour ! " pleaded the prostrate man. 
" My servants are all off looking for the ox." 

" No, they're not : they are all down at the drinking- 
house," replied Richard. 

" Just a little present, Sahib." 

" Not the smallest in the world. No : if you are good, 
when we reach the end you shall have a present, but not 
before." 

'' I will be here in ten minutes. Sahib," replied the fellow ; 
and in three-quarters of an hour he was on hand. 

" He will do that same thing again when we get out into 
the woods," said Richard as they started. " And if he is wise, 
and strikes where it is bad walking, he will get the best of 
me ; but, if it is good going, we will get Moro and Sayad 
to throw off the luggage from his cart, and we will start on. 
That will bring him to terms." 

"Why don't you pound him?" asked Scott. " L'll try it, 
if you will back me if he gets the best of me." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 173 

"That is one point, Scott, where the British government 
has not only done enough for the Hindu, but too much. 
There are times when a thrashing is a good thing for a man ; 
but the Hindus are weak and vexing, and the EngHshmen 
are strong and quick-tempered. A few years ago there were 
several cases where native servants were actually brutally 
beaten. The government took it in hand, and has made it a 
grave offence to strike a native. The natives know it, and 
have grown decidedly worse under it. See that tea-house 
that we are passing, up on the hill there," he added, pointing 
to a low, long building, where was a crowd of natives busily 
engaged, "They are raising tea all over North India now, 
and making a good thing of it on the high land." 

" But do you mean that they will really punish an Eng- 
lishman for striking a native if he has cause?" asked Scott. 

" Certainly they will." 

"That's a healthy way of doing things!" said Scott scorn- 
fully. " Do you know, Mr. Raymond, it strikes me that India 
is the greatest muddle imaginable. One minute I think it 
the perfect heaven of earth. I think I would always live here. 
I make up my mind, that, as soon as I am a man, I will 
come back. Then I think it is a horrid place. I hate every 
thing about it, and I wish I had not to stay a day here." 

" That's because it is a rough ploughed field now, between 
the old style of doing things and the new. Where you see 
either one alone, it is good; but where they come together, 
"look out. It will all be smooth again by and by." 

They reached the railway-station without another demand 
for backsheesh : in return for which Richard doubled the present 
he had intended to give the leader and his servants, and sent 
them off the happiest and most devoted set of fellows in the 
world. 



174 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" They are grateful vagabonds, after all," said Scott, feeling 
his heart grow warm toward the rude natives, and forgetting 
the struggle to get them started that morning. 

"They seem so now," replied Richard. "But we have a 
half-hour more before the train starts ; and, if I am not mis- 
taken, the most of them will be back again, complaining about 
something, and asking for more, before we get away." He 
was quite correct. 

" What's all that fancy-work around that collection of 
broken-down shanties over there?" Scott asked, as they 
started for a short walk, and approached several very large 
and low native buildings in miserable dilapidation. The 
ground about them was covered with something of the most 
brilliant coloring. 

"That is a goolie-shop," replied Mr. Raymond. "That is 
where they dye cloths and mats in those magnificent shades 
that our people have tried so long — and all in vain — to 
imitate." 

" Can't we come up to an establishment like that?" asked 
Scott, looking scornfully at the dilapidated goolie-shop. 

The first train to leave was "a local," or accommodation. 

" I am glad of it," Mr. Raymond remarked : " for, though 
a local is the most disagreeable thing in India to travel on, 
it will give us a few hours in Jabalpur to wait for the night- 
express from Bombay to Allahabad ; and I have a permit that 
will admit us to the great Thuggi prison there." 

"The what?" asked Scott. 

" The prison where the condemned Thugs are confined. 
I want you to see them." 

"And what in the world are they?" 

"They are the very worst side of India," replied Mr. Ray- 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 175 

mond. "If we go north from Allahabad, as I expect we shall, 
you will see much of the magnificent side of one of the 
grandest empires the sun ever shone upon. But ancient 
India had bad features too, and the system of Thuggi was 
one of the worst." 

While they were on the way to Jabalpur, Mr. Raymond 




THE DYE-HOUSE. 



and Scott talked over that terrible system that England has 
finally succeeded in crushing. 

Mr. Raymond explained that it was a great secret society, 
with watchwords and passwords, and signals as elaborate as 
those of Freemasonry. Even the wives and relatives of the 
greatest Thugs in the land often did not know by what 
occupation they made their fabulous fortunes. Literally they 



176 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

were murderers and robbers. They professed to be humble 
devotees of the terrible goddess Bhawani, — the wife of Siva, 
the Destroyer in the Hindu triad. She is the same as the 
Kali, whose idol Paul saw on the banks of the Jumna, while 
seated on the broad shoulder of Dhondaram. 

She is believed to exist upon the blood of the dead, and 
the Thugs committed their murders to supply her with victims. 
Then they robbed the dead to supply themselves with wealth. 
To prevent noise and blood-stains and occasional failures, 
they did their murdering with a rumal, or knotted handker- 
chief, which they threw over the head of the victim from 
behind, and, by a peculiar twist, strangled the man before he 
could utter a cry. 

They went in organized companies, over systematically laid- 
out routes. They went as other travellers, professedly upon 
some business. Before the railways were laid out, all the 
merchandise of India had to be transported by travellers, and 
all the gold going from place to place had to be carried in 
the same way ; so that their opportunities were almost unlim- 
ited. 

Their operations were hard to detect : for the travellers 
were often obliged to take long journeys, and, as the mode 
of travelling was very slow, they were often gone from home 
for months ; and, even if they were murdered by the way, 
there was rarely any reason to find it out till long after the 
robbery was committed. The Thugs were careful, too, to 
leave no track behind them, and to leave no one to tell the 
story ; and they generally succeeded. 

The pickaxe, with which they dug the graves, was the 
sacred emblem of the society. They held a religious service 
over it before they started on the pilgrimages. They were 



178 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

very superstitious fellows : they believed that the goddess 
directed them by all sorts of signs. 

All this, and a host of anecdotes from his own experience, 
Mr. Raymond related to Scott, — making the local seem like 
a flying express, so short was the time before they reached 
the beautiful town of Jabalpur, lying in a protecting valley 
open to the sun and the bracing' mountain air (for they had 
reached a high elevation) ; while in the distance the Narbada 
River, that Scott looked upon as an old friend almost, was 
circling its way through the sand, like a silver thread in the 
sunlight. The first of the marble gorges is ten miles below. 

Scott shuddered as they were led down into the solid- 
walled stone vaults where the Thugs were confined. 

There were seven of them, crouching like caged panthers 
in the corner of one cell. 

" Ugh ! " said Scott. " I should not like to tackle those 
fellows in a free fight in the dark, even if they had forgotten 
their rumahy 

" They're not at all savage-looking fellows," replied Mr. 
Raymond. " See that one standing in the corner at the left : 
he's as gentle as a kitten." 

" Maybe, but I'd rather be excused," said Scott. " But 
what a stylish twist that fellow's got on his mustache ! — the 
one that is sitting down in front of him. And what awful 
side-whiskers that next one in the middle has got ! " 

"That used to be all the style in India," said Richard. 
" Have you not noticed men going about the street with their 
faces all done up in cloth ? " 

" Yes, indeed ! and I thought they had the toothache 
from smoking too much of a hookah^ 

"They had been shampooing their beards with a prepara- 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 1 79 

tion that would harden a Httle in time, and had bound them 
back in that way to make them stay in the fashionable posi- 
tion." 

•' What fools ! " muttered Scott. 

Richard laughed. " American ladies do precisely that same 
thing ; and they use a preparation that they call bandoline, 
that is copied from this very material the Hindus use." 

" I've seen a bottle of that on my mother s bureau ; and 
I've seen her go about, while she was dressing, with a white 
cloth over her forehead. Guess she'll stop it double-quick 
when I tell her about that gent sitting down there." 

" Do you think she will if it is the fashion in America to 
use it?" asked Mr. Raymond. 

" Never thought of that," replied Scott. " But she's presi- 
dent of the Society, you know ; and she's an awful reformer." 

" But reformers stick closer to fashion than any other class 
of people in the world. It's only an odd fashion, that's all." 

But the time was up ; and they had to leave for the station, 
and establish themselves on the express for Allahabad, — a 
city almost in the centre of India as far as the great railway 
and river systems are concerned, with a name that, Mr. 
Raymond explained to Scott, meant " the City of God." 



I So OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER X. 

THUGS AND TRAITORS. 

HE first view that Scott obtained of the City of God 
was the immense railroad-bridge crossing the river. 
"What river is this?" he asked; and, looking 
more closely, he exclaimed again, "Why, what is 
the matter with it ? One side is white, and the other is black." 

"This is the confluence of the Ganges and the Jumna 
Rivers," replied Mr. Raymond. " The Ganges is supposed to 
flow from the mouth of Bramha : it is the most sacred water 
in the world. Then the Jumna is very sacred ; and, to make 
a collection here that cannot be equalled, they have arranged 
a plan by which the Sirasvati, — the Divine River coming 
directly from the throne of Bramha by an invisible passage — 
joins the two here." 

"That's not so bad," said Scott; "but what is it makes 
the water all black one side, and white the other?" 

" Because the Ganges and Jumna, though they rise very 
near together, flow through such different soil that one is 
muddy and the other clear. That is all, and they hate to 
mingle." 

The hotel was in an open square opposite the old fort 
and palace compound, near the river. The fort rose up per- 
pendicularly out of the water. 

The letters which Mr. Raymond received were important, 
but not explicit. 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



i8i 



•* We must go to Benares to-night, instead of to the North 
as I expected. I struck the right track the first time, but 
it remains to be seen what will come out of it. Do you 




THE OLD FORT. 



remember the man who rode with us part of the way from 
Liverpool to London ? He gave me the name of an intimate 
friend of Dennett's, in many a rascally game here, — an 



1 82 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

infamous half-caste, who has such a pecuHar knack in handHng 
native laborers that he keeps himself in employment as an 
overseer or foreman. I found that he was finishing some 
embankments on the road to Mogul Sarai, opposite Benares, 
and sent to him right away." 

" I should have thought that would be dangerous," said 
Scott. 

" So it might have been," replied Richard, " but that I 
have had occasion to bother him a little already, and he 
knows that it is in my power to give him as much trouble 
as I like : so, when he found out that I had my eye on him 
in this matter, he owned up to it instantly." 

"To knowing about Paul?" exclaimed Scott, white with 
excitement. 

"Yes, to knowing about Paul." 

Scott sprang to his feet ; and, throwing his arms round 
Richard's neck, he gave him a resounding kiss before he 
remembered that he was no longer a boy. 

" But you must be patient, Scott. It may be very hard 
work to learn much, and harder still to do much. We can 
only go to Benares, and see what we can do." 

" Can't we start before to-night ? " asked Scott anxiously. 

"Patience, patience, my boy!" said Richard gently. "I 
know exactly how you feel ; but, if we hurry, we shall do 
much more harm than good. We shall have to go so slowly, 
and act so indifferently, that I fear you will be angry with 
me a hundred times." 

" No, never ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" Don't promise, Scott. If you are angry, speak it out, 
and perhaps I can explain it ; and, whenever we have a chance 
to, be sure that I shall go as fast as steam or animals can 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 1^3 

carry us. But remember this : that, if you move slowly after 
a tiger carrying away a lamb, the chances are, he will run 
from you, dropping the sheep ; if you rush upon him, he 
will make a stand, and strike to keep his prey ; and, if you 
press him too hard, he will be very apt to tear his prey in 
pieces, even though he give you an opportunity to kill him 
while he is doing it." 

"I will remember," said Scott bravely; "but I wish that 
there were something we could be doing now." 

"We will take a walk," replied Richard, "and after dinner 
we will sleep for a few hours ; for we shall reach Benares at 
about two in the morning, which will break our rest." 

" Sleep ! " exclaimed Scott ; but Mr. Raymond looked at him. 
He knew what it meant, and replied, " Of course I will try." 

They walked through the lower native quarter by the 
river, and on to the banks of a little stream. There they sat 
down in the shadow of some overhanging branches. 

" Are there any Thugs now free ? " asked Scott, thinking 
of Paul. 

" Oh, yes ! " replied Richard. " Not as a band, and not 
as murderers, for that is entirely broken up ; but some of 
the most notorious are still at large, escaping every endeavor 
to capture them." 

" Did you ever see one out of the prisons ? " asked Scott, 

** Yes : I once saw a very notorious fellow, — Dhondaram," 
replied Mr. Raymond. 

" I thought you told me he was a muni," said Scott. 

" He is a muni, and a Thug too ; and in the mutiny he 
was one of the most influential leaders. Since then he has 
been the terror of every native, great and small, who fought 
with the English in that struggle for the freedom of India." 



1 84 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"What has he done to them?" 

" He has murdered over fifty of those men that he calls 
traitorS; already, to the knowledge of the government, and " — 

" Can't any one find him ? " asked Scott impatiently. 

" They can find him. They hear of him very often. Sev- 
eral times officers have almost laid their hands on him. The 
government offers a reward of ten thousand dollars for his 
head, and yet he lives." 

" What would they do with him if they should find him ? " 
asked Scott. 

"Hang him; starve him to death; cut him up, — any 
thing, I fancy," replied Mr. Raymond, with a cold, metallic, 
vindictive ring in his voice, that made Scott shudder and 
suddenly look up, to see a frown darker and sterner than he 
had imagined could ever have shadowed the face of the 
invariably calm and gentle Richard Raymond. 

"The British government would not do that, Mr. Ray- 
mond ! " he exclaimed. 

" The British government, Scott ! Is the British govern- 
ment responsible for what her officers may chance to fancy 
wise in an emergency? If so, Scott, then the British govern- 
ment was actually outrageous and horrible and barbaric in 
its dealings during the mutiny with the Hindus. At the 
very outbreak fifty rebelling sepoys in Col. Nicholson's com- 
mand were tied to the mouths of British cannon, and 
blown to pieces. A young sepoy twenty years old, whose 
turn it was next to be executed, came up to the officer, and 
smiling in his face, and tenderly stroking the ugly gun, said, 
' There's no need to bind me, captain : I am not going to 
run away.' On the 30th of July, 1857, over a thousand pris- 
oners were bound and shot by the English, really to get rid 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



185 



of them ; and fifty who escaped were recaptured, and put in 
prison, where they starved to death. On the 28th of August 
nearly seven hundred helpless fellows were put to death. 
On the 23d of September, after the British took Delhi, two 




"THERE'S NO NEED TO BIND ME, CAPTAIN." 



of the king's sons, who had fled to the sixty-four-pillared 
hall out in the plain, were found there, lying unarmed on 
the altar ; and, though they pleaded for mercy, they were shot 
in cold blood by a British officer who had a squad of soldiers 
behind him. Three other men of the royal family surrendered 



1 86 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

themselves to the officer in command, who had them taken 
in their coach to the large square ; and there, before his 
soldiers, he got into the coach, made them strip their breasts, 
and shot them, each one, in cold blood. At Cawnpore 
nearly two thousand sepoy prisoners were shot at com- 
mand of the British officer; and, before they died, many 
were condemned to lick with their tongues the spots of blood 




SCENE OF THE UASSACBE OF TWO THOUSAND HINDUS BY THE BRITISH. 

in the palace, where they had been commanded by Nana 
Sahib to kill his English prisoners, to prevent them from 
being retaken by the British. At Jhansi the harem was 
sacked, and many captive Hindus were either hung or shot ; 
till the moat of the palace of the Rani Bai, the queen, was 
filled with the bodies of the dead." 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 187 

"Why did they take a queen's palace?" asked Scott with 
a shudder. 

" Because she was one of the most zealous in the struggle 
for the freedom of her country," replied Mr. Raymond; "be- 
cause Sir Hugh Rose, of the British army, reported to 
Parliament that the most dangerous and the fiercest man 
opposing England was the Rani Bai, the queen." 

" I have read of terrible atrocities perpetrated by the 
Hindus, but nothing of this," replied Scott. 

" Of course not," said Richard. " And can you not see 
why not ? " 

" I read a terrible story the other day in the hotel, about 
a massacre by the Hindus at Cawnpore." 

" Every one reads of that," replied Richard with a 
frown. 

" I thought the Hindus were all to blame." 

" Every one thinks so," replied Richard. " Yes, that was 
a terrible massacre. Nana Sahib was at the head of the rebels 
in that quarter. He was as much of a fiend as some of the 
English officers. He ordered his soldiers to go into ambush 
on the steps of a low temple leading down into the water, 
and, as soon as the barges with the English prisoners came 
past the temple, to open fire upon them till all were dead. 
This many of his soldiers refused to do ; though they were 
fighting for their very lives and homes and families, and were 
only ignorant Hindus at the best. He could not drive them 
or persuade them. He was forced to gather a promiscuous 
crowd, and, by wine and bribery, forced them to do the 
bloody work. The British army came still nearer ; and Nana 
Sahib heard from every side of the fearful deaths his people 
were dying at their hands, and of their merciless marches. In 



1 88 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



his fury he ordered the women who were his captives to be 
killed at the last moment, when it was certain that the Brit- 
ish were upon him." 




THE SCENE OF NANA SAHIB'S MASSACRE OF THE BRITISH. 



*' Their bodies were thrown into a well, were they not?" 
asked Scott. 

" Yes : into the well that is now the famous Scar of 
Cawnpore, kept fresh in British memory by a chapel that has 
been built over it, and a marble angel that stands direcdy 
over the well." 

"What started the mutiny?" asked Scott. 

"Too much of a complication for us to discuss just now," 
replied Richard. 

"And you said that that Dhondaram was one of the 
leaders?" said Scott a moment later, for there seemed to be 
some strange fascination that was drawing him continually 
toward that name. 

"Yes: he was the right hand of Nana Sahib," replied 
Richard. ? •* 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 189 

"Is he really a very bad man ? " 

"I do not know, Scott," replied Richard with a sigh. 
"These Hindus are not of our world. What seems very 
wrong to us seems right to them. God may have some 
different way of judging them than by our codes of laws." 
"Was he as bad as Nana Sahib?" asked Scott. 
" I think not," replied Richard. " He was a very different 
man. He was a religious teacher, in the first place. He was 
a frantic fanatic. He is certainly a brave man. When the 
rebellion sprang up, he entered into it heart and hand. I 
saw him myself once on the porch of a temple, sword in hand, 
in a crowd of Bramhans, crying to the people to rise and 
free themselves. Roderick Dennett and I were together that 
day. We had a narrow chance of it in escaping, and the 
report that we took to the British authorities gave us our 
first fair start in India." 

Mr. Raymond was silent. The old times were coming 
back too fast to be lived again with indifference. 
"How did that help you?" Scott asked. 
"It did not help me so much as it did Dennett at the 
time," Richard replied. " It brought me into notice afterward; 
but Roderick was older than I, and took the lead in those 
days. He received an appointment at once to keep track of 
Dhondaram; but, instead of doing it, he really turned the 
muni's friend, and sold much information to Dhondaram, for 
which he received a good price. But, to wind up. Dennett 
at last offered to find Dhondaram for the government, for a 
thousand pounds and pardon for several crimes for which he 
was imprisoned. Dhondaram found it out just in time to save 
himself. Then Dennett left India for England. He was fol- 
lowed there, and nearly caught; but at last he escaped, and 



190 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



went to America. When we ran away from Beverly, we went 
under false names ; and when Dennett reached America again, 
no one ever knew what sort of a character he had been. 



IF TiiV 

III 1, 1 I " 



^^>^\ 







PREACHING THE INSVK£ECTION. 



until he showed them in Boston, a little while ago, the kind 
of a man he really was." 

" I should have thought he would have been afraid to come 
back here to India," said Scott. 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



191 



" To any other country he would have been afraid," replied 
Richard ; " but here the European population is continually 
changing. I know very few indeed now who were here when 
I was a boy. People forget, too, in a land like this. Any 
thing that is out of sight for a little while is out of mind 
forever. Only his old associates would remember him, and to 
them he could go in safety. That is why I was so sure of 
hitting him soon, and why I succeeded at once." 

" Wouldn't Dhondaram remember him ? " asked Scott. 

"If he is alive, he will remember him : there is no doubt 
of that," replied Richard. "But it is time we were taking 
our nap. Let us go to the hotel." 



192 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XI. 

PILGRIMS, PRIESTS. AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 

[jCOTT ! Scott ! this is Mogul Sarai. We have reached 
Benares," said Richard Raymond, gently stroking 
Scott's forehead as the boy lay asleep in the night- 
express. 

Scott started up with a cry. 

*' Excuse me," he said an instant later, rubbing his eyes. 
" I had a dream. I thought that Dhondaram was carrying 
Paul away. 

" I thought Benares was a large city," added Scott wonder- 
Ingly, as he stood on the platform. 

"So it is a large city, Scott, but on the other side of the 
river. They could not put the station on the other side ; for 
the Hindus consider Benares as holy ground, resting on the 
back of a divine mud-turtle, and they fought so hard against 
a railway that they had to put the station on this side the 
river." 

"What was it that coolie just said to you?" asked Scott. 

" He has a lantern, and I suppose he wants us to follow 
him to a boat. I could not understand him." 

" I thought you understood all their languages," said Scott. 

"There are over seventy entirely different languages spoken 
in India, beside a host of dialects," he replied. " It would 
take a lifetime to learn them all." 

There were three boats waiting on the bank. They were 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 193 

miserably weak affairs, even as seen in the dim lantern-light ; 
but the man who had led them down proved to be the post- 
office employee with the mail-bag ; and, thinking that the 
mail-boat would probably be as safe as any, they followed 
him, much to the disgust of the other boatmen, who, as 
soon as they were under way in the muddy, rushing river, 
attempted to show them what a mistake they had made in 
point of speed. This excited the oarsmen of the mail-boat,. 




and the three boats creaked and bent as they were pushed 
through the water. 

The yellow water splashed in their faces, and the little 
waves made the boats rock. Scott began to fear they might 
have a shipwreck there in the Ganges, but Richard only 
laughed. 

"This is the first time in my life," said he, "that I have 
needed to urge a native to go slower, instead of giving him 
backsheesh to hurry." 

By dint of utmost exertion they avoided striking a clod 



194 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

of some sort that was floating in the river. The next boat, 
not so fortunate, hit it fairly, and sent two of the three boat- 
men overboard, much to the amusement of those in the other, 
boats, who did not stop pulKng for an instant, but left them 
in the water. 

" What in the world was that ? " asked Scott. 

"A cow going to glory," replied Richard solemnly. 

"What!" exclaimed Scott, seeing that there was a joke 
somewhere, but being quite too sleepy to take it in. 

"Why, the Ganges is very sacred, you know; and when 
an animal dies whose master hopes to own it again in the 
sweet by and by, he just throws it into the river, instead 
of burying it. When men die, they burn them, and throw 
their bones in too ; for they believe, that, in some way, this 
river flows back again into the mouth of Bramha, from whence 
it comes," 

" Must be as nourishing as Cochituate water in Boston 
in midsummer by the time it gets back again to the spot that 
it starts from. I wonder if Bramha has a filter in his throat," 
said Scott. 

Had it been daylight, they would have obtained a view 
of the holy city, lying on the opposite bank, that would have 
occupied Scott's entire thoughts ; but, as it was, they landed 
as much in the dark as they embarked. Still, there was no 
appearance of the city anywhere. 

" Now we must take a garri, and ride for nearly two 
miles," said Richard, as they walked up the bank. 

" What in the world did they stick the city off in such an 
awkward spot for?" muttered Scott, whose drowsiness made 
mountains out of mole-hills. 

"It was a great mistake," replied Richard seriously; "but 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 195 

you see, three or four thousand years ago, when they laid 
the foundations of Benares, they did not figure, as they should, 
on the probability of its growing to sufficient size to require 
a railway." 

They easily made a bargain, as there were several drivers 
on hand, and they were the only passengers, and were soon 
rattling down an ill-paved street in a poor imitation of an 
English cab. 

Here and there dim shadows of huts could be distinguished 
along the way ; and now and then a low fire was smouldering 
in the middle of the street, and around it sat a few nearly 
naked natives, either sleeping, or shivering like pet hounds in 
the winter. But, awake or asleep, they did not move when 
the garri rolled by. It had to turn out for fire and men 
together. 

" If I were drivinpf, I would run over one of those fellows 
now and then, to teach them better than to build their bon- 
fires in the street," said Scott, after they had turned out for 
a dozen or more. 

"But they are the great guardians of the peace," replied 
Mr. Raymond. " They are the native police of Benares." 

"What do they want those fires for? It is hot enough 
to roast." 

"So it is, but that is only custom. The fellows would 
sit on those fires and roast in reality if it were custom, and 
their fathers had roasted there before them." 

" But what do they go to sleep for if they are policemen ? 
Is that custom too ? " 

"It is just that exactly. They have nothing to do but be 
on hand, where they can be called if there is trouble ; then 
to look on carefully, see the whole with unprejudiced eyes, 



196 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

report It to the jemadas in the morning : and the soldiers 
will then arrest the offenders. These fellows would not know 
how to make an arrest, even if they dared to, in the night." 

Where the huts by the roadside were near enough, it often 
happened that they saw a row of heads lying over the door- 
sill. At last, however, they reached the Dak Bungalow, where 
Richard preferred stopping, that they might remain in seclu- 
sion. 

" It is a very pretty spot," Scott said, as he looked out 
of the broad door that stood open to admit the breeze, when 
he woke in the morning. There was a little lawn about the 
bungalow, with several tropical trees growing upon it. " But 
what are those natives there for? Is it to see some Ameri- 
cans?" he asked, pointing to a dozen or more Hindus who 
were seated on the green lawn. 

"They want to see us on business," replied Richard. 

"Business?" exclaimed Scott, thinking of Paul. 

" Nothing of importance," Richard hastened to add. " Only 
that, as soon as they see we have finished breakfast, they will 
all come in with all sorts of native merchandise to sell." 

"I don't want any of their stuff," said Scott impatiently. 

" Every one says so," replied Richard ; " but they are good 
salesmen. We have not much time to spare ; but this is one 
of the sights of India, and we will wait a few minutes for it. 
I warrant, that, before you know they have even tried to sell 
you any thing, you'll be wishing you could purchase the lot." 
He was quite correct. 

They scarcely spoke a word, only now and then making 
some slight remark about the place that some treasure came 
from, as they undid their bundles, and spread upon the floor 
about them a tempting array of every thing imaginable that 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 197 

India furnished. Mr. Raymond occupied the time in writing 
and sending a note to the foreman, instructing him to meet 
him at the bungalow at one o'clock. When he had finished, 
he looked up, and asked, — 

"Well, how do you find it, Scott?" 

" You did not tell me they had such jolly things," said 
Scott. 

" No : I left you to find that out for yourself. What do 
you want ? " 

" I shopld like that little Cashmere cap, or perhaps two 
or three of them, to carry home ; and I should like some of 
those sandal-wood cases so beautifully carved ; and those 
peacock-feather fans are beautiful, and — well, I don't know; 
that ivory box would be a splendid present for mother, and 
those embroidered silk handkerchiefs are wonderful. How 
Bess would like them ! She must have them. And I should 
like one of the hookahs, too, just to show the boys what fire- 
engines they smoke through, you know." 

" But I thought you didn't want any of their stuff," said 
Richard, smiling. Scott had forgotten his remark. 

" There are over one thousand temples in this city," said 
Richard, as they started for a drive. "It is almost entirely a 
Hindu city, but there is one Mohammedan mosque. First I 
am going to take you out on the river, and then to the top 
of the observatory, that you may see the whole. Most of the 
temples crowd upon the river, and from them marble steps 
extend down into the water for the bathers. Then we will 
see all we can of the best of the temples near the river 
before dinner, and afterward drive to the distant ones." 

They reached the river in the carriage, and dismissed it. 
Seating themselves in a curious boat with a fancy canopy to 



198 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



protect them from the sun, a half-dozen oarsmen pushed them 
past the miles of marble ghats (or steps) leading into the 
water. They were dark with bathers. All sorts and sizes of 
people, crowded their way into the water, dressed just as they 
had come from the street, and just as they were going back 
again into the street as soon as their clothes were dry. There 
were broad, flat umbrellas, — a forest of them, — under which 




TEMPLES BY THE EIVER. 



bathers were sitting on the steps, waiting for an opportunity 
to go into the water. Those already there would take the 
dirty water, and pour it over their heads, repeating a prayer, 
and touch it to their lips and breasts, still praying. Sometimes 
a carcass would float down, and become entangled in the 
bathers ; but they would only push it out of their way, and 
go on praying. 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 199 

** Are there no crocodiles here ? " asked Scott. 

" Lots of them," repHed his friend ; " but they are fed so 
well up the river and down that they rarely venture into the 
crowd. There was a sensation here a while ago, however, 
when a crocodile was several times seen and often felt. He 
would grasp by the legs the women that were bathing, and 
often succeed in pulling off their gold and silver ornaments 
that they wear about their ankles. They dared do nothing 
to disturb him, for he is one of the most sacred animals of 
India. But his depredations were suddenly stopped one day, 
when a crocodile's head rose out of the water with a fearful 
cry. There was another crocodile close behind. Suddenly 
the one behind gave a bound, opened his mouth, grasped 
something just beneath the water, gave it a shake. The head 
flew off, and all saw the body of a native beneath it for an 
instant, as it went down in the jaws of a genuine article." 

"What was it?" asked Scott. 

" Why, a fellow who put on the head to deceive the bathers, 
and then, swimming under water, robbed the women of their 
jewels." 

" Good enough for him," replied Scott. " But what is that 
pile of wood there for ? " 

" That is at the top of the burning ghats. There are no 
bathers there ; but at night there are fires all along the ghats, 
where they are burning the dead. We shall round yonder 
corner in a moment, and you will see them better. Before 
we are out of sight, look at those two tall towers. They are 
the minarets of the mosque." 

The boat rounded the corner, shutting out the distant 
minarets, but bringing into better view the temples and the 
burning ghats. 



200 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"The most beautiful bathing ^/^<3;/^ in the world are not far 
from here. I wish we could have stopped there, and have seen 
them as we came through Mirzapur on the way to Benares. 
They are of pure white marble, with magnificent ornamental 
work, and a little temple at the top, and a wonderful balcony 
of carved marble. It is enough to make one want to go in 
bathing just to see it." 








BtTRNING THE DEAD. 



" Unless the water is cleaner than it is here, I think I should 
rather be excused," said Scott, shaking his head. 

" If you once saw the place, especially by moonlight, you'd 
change your mind, I fancy," replied Mr. Raymond. "It's almost 
enough to make one wish he were a heathen, just for half an 
hour. Only long enough to wash his sins away, you know." 

They left the boat just below the ghats, and turned into 
one of the narrow streets, — so narrow, and with houses so 
high, that the opposite eaves seemed almost to touch. All 
along the street there were little booths, where all sorts and 
sizes of idols were for sale ; and the streets were filled with 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 201 

pilgrims in rags and dirt, and princes and rajahs in magnifi- 
cent costumes, all seeking the holy water ; and priests with- 
out number, with scanty clothing or flowing robes, and long 
silken beards that they never cut. Munis were everywhere, 
and there were monkeys in every alley and on every roof. 
In the most crowded parts of every street, there were cows 
contentedly feeding on offerings that those who passed were 




THE BEAUTIFUL MARBLE GHATS. 



continually making to them. Some of the cows had garlands 
of flowers about the horns or necks. 

" I should think it was Decoration Day," said Scott. " And 
what in the world is the matter there ? " he added, pointing 
to two men and a woman who were flat on their faces before 
one of the cows, right in the thick of the throng threading 
the narrow alley. 



202 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"The cow is sacred. They are only saying a prayer before 
her: that is all," replied Richard. 

" Great Caesar's ghost ! " muttered Scott, as he carefully 
stepped over the extended legs of one of the devotees. 

They climbed by a long, winding staircase, through dust 
and dirt, to a broad, flat roof, raised high above the surround- 
ing buildings. 




THE OBSERVATOET. 



"This is one of those observatories I was telling you about," 
said Richard. " Look at these dials for the sun and moon, 
and this complex affair to regulate the Luna dials to the differ- 
ent months, and this block of marble, with a little groove in 
it pointing up to the North Star. Then there are a host of 
other things that I know nothing about, that you will under- 
stand when you study astronomy. This is one of the most 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 203 

modern observatories in India, and most of these things were 
copies from others much older ; but even these were here 
when we were ready to hang Gahleo for the first and simplest 
discoveries that he made with his little telescope. 

" We ! " said Scott. " They never asked me what I thought 
about it, or I should have told them to leave it to these 
heathen to settle the matter. And wouldn't the old Pope 
have been mad ! What a bull he would have sent to doze 
me ! " 

The view from the summit of the observatory gave Scott 
still another idea of the densely crowded holy city. 

On their way out of the forest of temples, they passed 
through an alley even gloomier and narrower than any they 
had seen before. 

" Look through that little hole in the wall, Scott, and see 
how you like the view," Richard said, pointing to a hole so 
small that Scott almost lost it in trying to stand on tiptoe to 
reach it ; but at last, with a cry of surprise, he attained the 
position. 

He seemed to be looking into a vast chamber of dazzling 
sunlight and polished marble and burnished gold. The draught 
that was drawn through that little hole was laden with the 
sweetest fragrance of rose-oil and sandal-wood. 

"It is the Temple of Siva, — the great Golden Temple to 
the especial deity of the city," Mr. Raymond explained. 

"Will you have a drink?" asked Richard, as they stopped 
beside the Well of Knowledge a moment later. 

Scott stepped upon the platform, and looked down into 
the well. A vile mass of decaying flowers and sprouting rice 
was floating there ; and he replied that he would rather be 
excused. 



204 OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 

" It is very efficacious water," continued Mr. Raymond. 
"The god Ganesh, in the shape of a serpent, representing 
Wisdom, jumped into this well. As the result of it, the well 
became at once imbued with wisdom." 

" And with serpents too ! " exclaimed Scott. " I saw a 
dozen of them, at least, sticking their heads above the water. 
And do people really drink it?" 

" Look at them," replied Richard, as two pilgrims came 
up, deposited their coins, and took a drink. " They imbibe 
the wisdom." 

"And the serpents, too, I'll bet! But the thing must pay 
like a soda-water fountain on a hot day. Look there ! There 
go three more ignoramuses. What a set of people these 
Hindus are ! One minute you think they're smarter than chain- 
lightening, knowing all about astronomy before the stars were 
created ; and the next you find them paying half a cent or 
so a drink for dead rose-leaf and snake tea, thinking they are 
going to g'row wise on it." 

As it was not far, they walked back to the bungalow ; 
and on the way, just at the gate of a rajah's palace, they 
passed a funeral procession, where three of the male relatives 
were carrying the body of the dead in a sort of palanquin, 
supported by poles, on their shoulders. They were wailing a 
song as they went, or something intended for a song. 

" If they were rich, they might have two or three fellows 
going with them, with tomtoms and drums and a fife or two, 
to keep up their spirits, and keep them in time," said Richard 
as they approached. 

"What are they singing?" asked Scott. 

" Moro understands them. Where is the boy?" returned 
Richard, looking about him. But Sayad was following alone. 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 205 

" Oh, I remember ! " he added. " I told Moro he might bathe ; 
and I suppose he will take a month for it, he has such an 
accumulation of sins. But never mind. They are singing 
the praises of the dead man, and a long list of good things 
that he did when living : that is what they always sing." 




A rUNERAL PROCESSION. 



" Poets and musicians must be plenty," observed Scott ; 
" for there seem to be a plenty of deaths." 

" But this is the same old song, both words and music, 
that they have used at every funeral for centuries. They don't 
want to say any thing but the best of a dead man ; and 
when they have the very best that can be said, all written 
down and set to music and learned by heart, what is the use 
of any thing new ? " 



2o6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" And a fellow knows, that way, what is going to be said 
of him. That's comfortable," added Scott. 

The foreman came to the bungalow. He admitted that 
Roderick had left Paul with him for a few days ; and said that 
he had turned him over, according to orders, to some pilgrims 
who were going up the Ganges and Jumna, to Delhi, to the 
feast of the Pungas, for he had been directed to send Paul's 
•clothing there. Further than that he refused to speak. 
Richard asked him of the whereabouts of Roderick Dennett ; 
but he replied indignantly, — 

" I'm not that sort o' man, Mr. Raymond ; and you know 
it, that you do. Roddy Dennett's not my kind ; no, he ain't. 
He can go back on his friends; but I, no! He's my friend, 
— Roddy is. God knows he'd go back on me for a rupee 
any day : but I'll not go back on him ; no, I won't. You 
told me, if I'd let out all I knew o' the little kid, you'd let 
up on me ; and I've done it. And you'll do it ; for you're 
a man o' your word, yesterday and to-morrow and every day, 
you are : and I'm not afraid to tell you to your face, top o' 
that, that not a word'll I breathe o' Roddy Dennett, so help 
me God ! no, I won't. No more you won't touch me, neither, 
till you find out I've held something back about the kid. I 
know you, Raymond Sahib, and there's no use your talking 
more ; for I have your word, and I'd's soon have that as a 
sealed pardon from the viceroy. I'll send you the kid's clothes 
that's left behind before two hours, and that's all I will do. 
Good-day, Mr. Raymond." 

" That's not quite all," said Richard. " I told you you 
must help me find the child." 

" Right you are there, Raymond Sahib ; and I'm your man. 
I'll go with you if you say it, or I'll go alone, or I'll stay 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 207 

where I am ; and, be it one or all, tell me where to find you, 
and I'll give you my word — for what it's worth — that, the 
first thing- and every thing I learn o' the whereabouts o' the 
kid, you shall know it by telegraph. 

" Course you'll pay expenses and a little beside," he added 
as he went out. 

" All that is left us, then," said Richard when he and 
Scott were alone, " is to go up to Delhi, and watch there 
for the pilgrims coming in from the river. Let me see : this 
is sixteen days since we landed." 

" It seems like a year, at least," said Scott incredulously, 
as he began to count the days again. 

" They started two days after we landed," Richard continued, 
" and could not possibly reach Delhi in less than a month. 
We have time to go slowly, see a good deal by the way, and 
still be well established before the feast of Pungas." 

"Why not strike the river, and search the pilgrims?" sug- 
gested Scott. 

** Because it would be impossible. The very ones that 
had Paul in charge would look the most innocent. There 
will be hundreds of boats going up to the feast, and we have 
only the word of this vagabond to go upon. While we were 
searching the wrong ones, the right one would hear of it, 
and escape us. The best way is to say nothing. There is 
no fear but that Paul will be well cared for. The Hindus 
love children, in the first place ; and, beside that, whoever 
has him will be well paid for care, and well threatened if any 
thing happens. I know Dennett. He has not taken all this 
pains, to lose his prize now." 

Scott had no choice but to wait, and let matters take 
their course ; and, as soon as dinner was eaten, they sent for 



2oS OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

a carriage, and drove out ten miles to Sarnath, the site of 
the first Buddhist city in the world, stopping by the way at 
a famous temple. 

Richard had said nothing of what sort of a temple it was, 
wishing to surprise his friend ; but Scott noticed that he took 
off his cork helmet just as he was entering the gate, and 
was in the act of following the example, and of asking why 
he did it, when his own helmet was lifted from his head. 

There was no one near him ; and Scott looked up in sur- 
prise, to see at least fifty little black hands with long wiry 
fingers, with the nails bitten off very short, in a squirming 
wreath about his head, and half as many dark woolly faces 
turned disconsolately upward, while their tiny black eyes 
followed the successful monkey. He leaped from the wall to 
a tree, from the tree to the porch of a little temple, from the 
porch to the ornamental tower, and from one ornament to 
another, till he perched upon the very highest attainable point ; 
and, with the huge helmet in his little hand, he turned round, 
and made a face at Scott. 

Scott picked up a stone to throw at the intruder ; when 
at least a hundred and fifty monkeys all about him began to 
howl, and two priests in hideous robes, with cowls over their 
heads, sprang forward, and caught his uplifted hand. He 
pushed them angrily away ; when Richard, coming to the 
rescue, said, — 

" Be careful, Scott. Those monkeys are terribly sacred, 
and so are the priests. This is the great monkey-temple. 
It wouldn't do to insult the gods." 

" But he's got my hat," cried Scott angrily, and looked 
up the tapering tower, — all jutting ornaments, to give the 
monkeys a good chance to climb. When he saw the old 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 209 

monkey at the top, however, he could not himself refrain from 
smiling : for the fellow had forced the hat down between two 
ornamental projections, and, seating himself in it as though 
it were an easy-chair, he had crossed his legs, and thrown 
his head back against the marble tower; and there he sat, 
quietly scratching himself, and looking down on the bareheaded 

boy. 

" That's one way they take to make a living out of tour- 
ists," Richard explained. " Perhaps you cannot see the joke, 
but they want you to give them some money to pay them for 
trying to get the hat back again." 

"Will they guarantee to do it?" asked Scott, who had 
inherited a financial turn of mind from his father. 

" I don't believe they'd sign a contract," replied Richard ; 
" and, unless you gave them nearly what they can get for the 
hat if they sell it in the bazaar, I hardly think they will 
succeed." 

"They won't have a chance to try," returned Scott, quietly 
taking from his pocket a little cashmere cap that he had 
bought of the pedlers after breakfast that morning. " If they 
can't furnish their gods with rocking-chairs, I will. And I'll 
wear this till I can get me another." 

Even the priests smiled at the business-like way in which 
Scott turned to examine the temple and monkeys, without 
so much as looking up again. He even bought some of the 
pop-corn and candies that they keep always on hand to sell 
to travellers who wish to feed the monkeys. 

But when Scott came to the real idol, the great monkey- 
god, in the centre of the little temple, in fact filling the 
temple completely with his innumerable heads and legs and 
arms, he turned away in disgust. 



2IO 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" I'd give more for one sick monkey than a dozen like 
him," he exclaimed. " Why, Paul's got a jumping-jack at 
home that'll beat him all to Goshen ! " 

They did not remain long, but taking the carriage again 
drove out to Sarnath. 

" You'll hardly think it worth seeing," remarked Richard. 

" It's only what they call 
a tope, or solid tower, 
an enormous thing, and 
quite dilapidated ; but it 
was built upon the spot 
where Gautama, the Hin- 
du prince who renounced 
his throne, pitched his 
tent when he went into 
hermitage." 

" What did he do that 
for?" asked Scott. 

" Because he believed 
he was divinely appointed 
to preach a reformation 
to the Hindus." 

"■ That was a pretty 
way to preach a reforma- 
tion. Why didn't he stay a prince ? it would have had much 
more weight," said Scott. 

Richard did not reply directly : he only said, " Jesus of 
Nazereth was a carpenter's son. He had not where to lay 
his head when he preached a reformation to the Jews." 

"How long has this tope been standing?" Scott asked 
as they were examining it. 




XHE OLD IOF£ AT SAKNATH. 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 211 

" Over two thousand five hundred years," repHed Richard. 
"Gautama — who is now called Buddha, or wisdom — began 
to preach to five disciples who gathered about him out here, 
four hundred years before Christ was born." 

"How did he succeed?" asked Scott again, with the 
financial tendency uppermost. 

" When he died, after only forty-five years of preaching, 
and never to any but those who would come out to hear 
him, he had over eight million followers." 

Scott whistled. 

" And to-day," Richard continued, " over two hundred 
and ninety millions of people, or over a quarter of the whole 
world, are Buddhists." 

" But where are they all ? We have not seen them, have 
we ? " 

" There are very few in India," Richard replied. 

** That's bad," said Scott. " It don't look well for a thing 
to be driven away from its home that way." 

" How many native Christians do you think there are in 
Syria, Scott ? " asked Richard. 

"Never thought of that," said Scott; "but is Buddhism 
really good for any thing ? " 

" Of course it is. There are a great many good things in 
it ; but they are all to be found in Christianity, and a deal 
more that is not in Buddhism or all other religions com- 
bined," Mr. Raymond replied earnestly. 

"There is a little crowd over there," said Scott: "are they 
pilgrims ? " 

" We will go and see," replied Richard, directing the 
driver to go over to where the fifty or more people were 
gathered. 



212 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Barnum ! " cried Scott as he reached the Httle company, 
and found many of them prostrate before three of the most 
pecuHar beings he had ever seen, two of whom were sitting 
on raised chairs, and one standing behind. 

" We are in luck," whispered Richard eagerly. " They 
are pilgrims. They are three of a family of eight, — the hairy 
people of Mandelbar." 

" You don't mean to say that that long black hair all 
over them is natural ? " said Scott. 

" Indeed I do," replied Richard ; " and, more than that, 
that person standing — the one behind — is a woman." 

" A woman ! " exclaimed Scott, " a woman, with all that 
beard, and hair all over her forehead and arms and hands?" 

" Yes, a woman, and one very proud of her personal 
appearance." 

"Great Csesar's ghost!" muttered Scott. "But what are 
they praying to them for ? " 

"They are not really praying to them as to God: they are 
only receiving their blessing. They suppose, from their pecul- 
iarity, that they are in some way under the especial care of 
Providence ; and so they make them presents of money and 
any thing they have, and take their blessing in return." 

" Why, that beats going with Barnum, by a large major- 
ity," said Scott as they turned away. " I thought America 
would surely be ahead in circus-show facilities." 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



213 



CHAPTER XII. 



AMONG THE PALACES. 




ROM Benares they went direct to Agra. 

" I believe we'll drive right to the house of a 
friend of mine here, a right good fellow. His name 
is Royal Cliffton. He came from America with his 
family, a few years ago, and has settled here. He has two 
of the prettiest little girls I ever saw." 

" But I am hardly in a state to make a call," said Scott, 
looking at the dust on his clothes, and general disorder that 
Sayad had tried in vain to right, in the disagreeable carriage 
on the branch road. 

" I don't mean, to make a call : I mean, to stop there 
while we are in Agra," replied Richard. 

" Won't it be taking your friend too much by surprise, 
especially if I go ? " suggested Scott, who, after all, was over- 
joyed with the prospect of seeing an American family again. 

" It's a way we have in India," replied Richard. " We 
are always glad enough to see any one, to forget about 
ceremony." 

Mr. Cliffton's house was a little out of the city, and they 
found it a most delightful home. In the afternoon they all 
drove over to the fort, built upon the banks of the Jumma 
River, a branch of the Ganges. 

They entered through the famous Delhi Gate, of red 
sandstone, It was not particularly beautiful, but was exceed- 



21 S 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



ingly strong, rising seventy-five feet high. Over the wall, 
that is two miles long, they could see the domes and mina- 
rets of the mosque and palace as they approached. 

There was a bazaar or market-place outside the gate, 
where the booths were covered with kus-kbs mats, like the 
awnings over the windows of the private houses. A multi- 




THE FAMOUS DELHI GATE. 



tude of beggars crowded around them as they made their 
approach. They were a ghastly set. Some of them had a 
leg swollen from the hip till the foot was entirely hidden. 
Some had horrible deformities. All of their faces were full 
of misery ; and many had their arms full of babies, and most 
of the babies were full of a variety of afflictions. They clung 
about them with the utmost persistency, in spite of all Mr. 
Cliffton's endeavors to drive them off. 



AMONG THE PALACES. >I5 

" I don't see what makes the beasts hang on so to-day," 
he said impatiently. 

" I threw them all the small pieces I had in my pocket, 
when they first came up. I thought it would stop them, bu*- 
it didn't work worth a cent," said Scott. 

" It has worked like a charm, and it always will," replied 
Royal Cliffton, laughing. "If you want to draw a crowd of 
beggars in India, just give something to the first one that 
comes. — That's the way; is it not, Raymond?" 

*' I never knew it to fail," said Richard. 

British soldiers were guarding the gate ; and without a 
word they roughly pushed Moro and Sayad back, with the 
butts of their guns, when they attempted to follow their 
masters. 

Mr. Cliffton came up and explained, that, a year before, 
one of the magazines in the fort had been fired through 
some mistake ; and, as no one could discover just whose mis- 
take it was, they declared with one voice that it must have 
been the work of a native, and forthwith issued an order 
that no native could safely be allowed to enter this palace 
of his fathers ; and all were consequently forbidden. 

An enormous court surrounded them, paved with marble 
except where beds of gorgeous flowers bloomed ; and here 
and there were dark-green arbors. All around them were 
marble buildings so beautiful that Scott sought in vain for 
words to express himself. Even " great Caesar's ghost " was 
inadequate for the occasion. He simply stood in rapt admi- 
ration. 

" Come this way first, and we will go into the mosque," 
said Mr. Cliffton. " They call it the Moti Musjid, or Pearl 
Mosque. What do you think of it, Scott ? " 



2i6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"It's an odd place for a church," replied Scott; "but it 
is certainly the finest thing I ever saw, whatever it is." 

" Ah ! we've something better yet to show you. Wait till 
we take you to the Taj Mahal," said Mr. ClifFton. 

" Has any one lived here lately ? " asked Scott. 

" It was about three hundred years ago that the royal 
family went to Delhi," said Mr. Cliffton. 

"Three hundred years since they moved away!" Scott 
drew a long breath. " Why, pray, how old is this place any- 
way? It is as fresh as though it were built yesterday." 

"That is true; for it was well built in the first place, and 
the air does not discolor and injure the marble here as it 
does in America." 

They passed through the magnificent audience-hall where 
the Mogul emperor, Shah Jehan, once sat in judgment ; and 
where, twice every week, the meanest and lowest in his realm 
were allowed to come into his presence, and say what they 
chose to him, complaining about any wrongs or injuries they 
had received, without any third person to misrepresent their 
words. They were just going through a low arch to the left, 
on the way to the zenana, when Mr. Cliffton added, " Look 
over the river there, Scott. Do you see that white bubble 
coming up out of the water and the jungle ? " 

" I see it," said Scott in a low tone, for the beauty was 
something that seemed to rebuke any thing boisterous. 

" That is the great Taj Mahal, the finest architectural 
work in the world, the most elaborately and expensively 
ornamented of any building on earth, the most beautiful 
mausoleum ever erected ; and yet it is only the tomb of a 
Mohammedan woman." 

" You can't surprise me that way, a bit," said Scott, as 



2iS OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

they went on ; "for I have had my notions about these 
heathen women changed a deal within the last few days. 
I've found out that they are some pumpkins, and pretty big 
ones too." 

" Well, here we are where they lived when in the palace," 
said Mr. Cliffton, as they entered a room, or rather a long 
series of rooms that were separated by marble walls, but 
walls that were carved through and through with beautiful 
open-work designs right in the marble, and magnificent pillars 
that were carved from top to bottom, and inlaid with gold and 
precious stones in exquisite designs. And there was a marble 
aqueduct in the floor, carrying water through the middle of 
every room. 

" This water is brought from mountains miles away," said 
Mr. CHffton. 

" They'd have had hard work to keep out the mosqui- 
toes," remarked Scott, looking through the open-tracery walls, 
as he followed Richard out upon the balcony surrounding 
the zenana that overlooked the fort-wall from seventy-five 
feet above the river. 

This balcony was surrounded by a balustrade of marble, 
carved in open-work geometric patterns, and was shaded by 
an awning of thin marble. 

" Guess if our Society folks saw this, they would not mind 
being harem women themselves on hot afternoons," said 
Scott triumphantly. 

They went through the royal bath-rooms, where mirrors 
were inlaid in the marble instead of gold and precious stones, 
and where a hundred little fountains played when the em- 
peror was* in Agra. As they passed a low marble building 
on the way out. Royal Cliffton remarked, — 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



219 



" The famous sandalwood gates are kept in there. The 
Afghans took them about eight hundred and seventy-five 
years ago, and carried them home. The English prized them 
so much that they obliged them to bring them all the way 




THE BALCONY. 



back again. I should like to show you the gates ; but every 
one who sees them must have a special permit, and that 
permit is only to be obtained by making personal applications 
upon a man who, I believe, is never at home." 

Taking the carriage again at the door, they drove for two 



220 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



miles down the strand road, to the Taj Mahal of which Mr. 
Cliffton had spoken. The gateway was so beautiful in itself 
that Scott thought it impossible for the Taj within it to be 
more so. He stopped for a moment on the marble platform, 
looking up at the great red-sandstone tower decorated with 




THE BEAUTIFUL GATE. 



white marble : then he followed Mr. Cliffton and Mr. Ray- 
mond under the arch. 

" Moonlight -is the time to see the outside of the Taj," 
said Royal Cliffton ; " but then one has to sacrifice the inside, 
which is yet more beautiful. We'll come again, and see it 
by moonlight." 

Within the gate there was a tropical garden extending 
away over broad acres in every direction, and one mass 
of luxuriant vegetation, — tall palms and twining vines, 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



221 



flowering shrubs in tropical confusion, with long avenues 
leading through it in various directions, bordered with foun- 
tains. 

" There are eleven hundred of those fountains in this 
garden," said Mr. Cliffton. 

From the gate they walked down a long avenue of 




THE TAJ FROM THE GASDEN. 



cypress-trees, that were trained in an arch above their heads. 
Though it was broad day, they seemed to be in twilight. 
Here and there a pauper or pilgrim sat in rags and holy 
contemplation, or sadly puffing away upon a hubble-bubble, 
or primitive and simple clay hookah, by the side of the walk. 
When they reached the end of the avenue, they suddenly 
found themselves at the brow of a gentle hill, that gradually 
fell away, densely covered with a magnificent floral display ; 



222 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and over the valley, on the brow of a hill opposite, seeming 
to rest on the green forest like an ivory dream, was the 
wonderful Taj. 

It was of pure white marble, octangular in form. Four 
alternate sides were formed of one immense arch each,- and 
the other four of four smaller arches each. Above the whole, 
rose a great heart-shaped dome ; and around it were four 
smaller domes, as near like it as a little drop of water and a 
larger one ; and every dome was tipped with gold. 

" That golden ball on the top of the central dome is tw^o 
hundred and eighty-four feet above the platform," said Mr.- 
Cliffton. 

Scott held his breath for a moment, then hardly above a 
whisper said, — 

" Fifty feet higher than our big church- steeples ! Whew ! " 

This beautiful building stands upon a very large platform 
of polished marble, raised sixteen feet above the garden ; and 
at the four corners of the platform are four slender minarets. 
At a little distance from the Taj, upon each side of it, are two 
smaller buildings with graceful Saracenic arches facing it. 

" It took twenty thousand men twenty-three years to build 
that Taj," added Mr. Cliffton after a moment's pause. There 
wa^ a great deal sent in tribute ; and the labor was nearly all 
of it the work of prisoners or tributary, force, that cost noth- 
ing. But the material alone cost the emperor Shah Jehan 
what to-day would be worth more than fifty million dollars." 

Again Scott looked in breathless astonishment. 

As he followed Mr. Cliffton down into the garden, he 
asked, — 

" What is the use of the minarets that all Mussulman 
mosques seem to have ? " 



AMONG THE PALACES. 223 

"It Is from them that the call to prayer is given. Some- 
times four Mussulman criers go up to the little nest in the 
top; and, joining their hands behind their backs, they throw 
their heads back, and all together shout the call. They become 
by practice so strong that they send the cry for miles often ; 
and every devout Mussulman who hears it should fall on his 
knees, and touch his forehead to the ground, at least. It is 
a pretty call: ' La-illa-il-ulla-Mahamad rusol-il-ullay 

As they went down into the garden, the Taj still appeared. 
It was so arranged as always to appear; but the surround- 
ings so continually and completely changed, that it ever 
seemed as though one were looking at something new, that, 
if possible, was more beautiful than the last view. 

Then they entered, and all the beauty without was only 
intensified. As they passed under one of the great arches, 
they found themselves in an immense circle, in a square of 
a hundred and eighty-six feet. 

" The entire Koran, the Mussulman Bible, is inlaid in 
black marble over the outside of the Taj," said Mr. Cliffton ; 
•' and, do you see, over this immense interior there is not 
a place where you could lay your hand without touching a 
precious stone." 

"Oh! but what beautiful designs!" Scott exclaimed. 
" There are entire vines and leaves and flowers ; and all are 
inlaid in their own proper size and shape, and even color, in 
these jewels ! And there, see ! there are little pearls for drops 
of dew. It would be worth a journey to India, if one had to 
walk all the way, and could only see this one wonderful 

And now, for the first time, he noticed that there were 
no windows in the Taj ; and, looking about him, he discov- 



224 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

ered that the soft reflection that filled the room was stealing 
through the very marble walls, where vines of light seemed trail- 
ing from the dome, carved through and through the marble. 

About the centre of the interior, there was a marble balus- 
trade, where all the skill that had been expended elsewhere 
seemed to have been redoubled. In the centre of this, were 
two large marble slabs. One stood in the exact centre, and 
the other at one side. 

" Are there two people buried here ? " asked Scott. 

" This is not where the bodies are laid," replied Mr. 
Cliffton ; " but in a vault below, that we will go down into 
presently. There are two more slabs directly under these, 
that have only fresh flowers from the garden on them, and 
nothing inlaid. Yes, there are two bodies lying here. The 
sultana Murmtza-i-Mahal, the wife of the emperor, for whom 
the tomb was built, lies in the centre. Then the Shah Jehan 
ordered the architect to build him a tomb for himself, across 
the river, even larger and more beautiful. The architect 
began, and the foundations yet remain ; but when they were 
raised he died, and no one could be found capable of carry- 
ing on the work : so there it stands ; and, when the emperor 
died, he directed that his body be laid here too." 

The Taj stands directly upon the river, and the most 
beautiful view of all was obtained as they were rowed away 
toward the city. 

" You are sober, Scott. Don't India please you ? " asked 
Richard, as they had almost reached the landing below the 
fort- wall. 

** I hardly know, Mr. Raymond," he returned : " there are 
such extremes, such terrible extremes. India makes you mad 
with her, then makes you feel like dying for her if it could 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



25 



assist her. She makes you sad, she makes you laugh ; she 
makes you crawl all over with horror and disgust : yet I feel 
as if I had seen enough to-day to make me happy and 
humble for a lifetime. She makes me pity her, and the next 
moment I think that every civilized mortal should get down 
on his knees before her. 
I do not know." 

In the bazaar Scott 
bought an ivory medal- 
lion of one of the noble- 
men who used to inhabit 
the palace. 

" We will drive out to 
Futtehpur Sakri to-mor- 
row, and drive back the 
next day : I want to show 
you some more extremes," 
said Royal Cliffton, laugh- 
ing. 

" I am sure I can see 
nothing equal to this," 

said Scott. ^ eajah of the good old days. 

" You're right," said Mr. Cliffton. " Search the world, and 
there is nothing to compare with it. But Futtehpur Sakri is 
worth seeing. It was the summer city of the grandfather of 
the Shah Jehan." 

They started very early, for it was a long day's drive; 
and at four in the afternoon were approaching the summer 
city. Nothing could yet be seen of it but a jumble of 
glistening walls in the distance, and the high tower of 
Elephanta. 







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226 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" This Is a very popular road for pilgrims and caravans," 
said Mr. Cliffton as they rode along. " See how the enlight- 
ened native dealers have taken up the American notion of 
sticking advertisements in stencil - painting on the rocks? 
They are nearly all of them advertisements of some kind of 
American inventions. Do you see that large stone there, 
with a Hindustani sentence in large letters upon it?" 

" Yes : ' Use Perry Davis's Pain-Killer,' " repeated Richard, 

translating the prominent 
sign. 

** Well," added Mr. 
Cliffton, " they have 
scratched it out now, 
but a while ago the 
missionary society sent 
out a Hindu convert to 
paint a lot of Scripture- 
texts in the best places 
he could find. He could 
not read a word, either 
of what was already writ- 
ten or of what he had ; but he thought that a splendid place, 
and he picked out his largest plate to put right under that. 
What do you think it was ? ' Thou shalt have no other gods 
before me.' And every one who could read, at once decided 
that Perry Davis's Pain-Killer was a new god that was setting 
up decidedly grand pretensions." 

" We must go into the court of the mosque to see the 
tomb of the sheik Selim Christi, before it is too dark," said 
Mr. Cliffton as they began their walk through the beautiful 
marble city. " He is the man, Scott, who was going through 




ADVERTISING EOCKS. 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



227 



the Indian desert when he found a Httle girl only a few 
hours old, and a baby boy, her brother, where their mother 
and father had left them to the mercy of God, while they 
went on a little way to die alone ; for they were out of food 
and water, and a long way from help. He took them to the 
court of the emperor Akbar, and there they grew up. The 




THE TOMB or SELIM CHRISTI. 



little girl, some say, was the ' Light of the Harem,' that Tom 
Moore wrote about in his famous ' Lalla Rookh ; ' and that 
the boy married a daughter of the sheik, and their daughter 
was the sultana for whom the Shah Jehan built the Taj." 

"Isn't that rather mixed?" asked Scott. "I can't see 
through it, at any rate." 

•'Well, it only amounts to this: that the man who lies 



2 28 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

here rescued from death and gave the world the heroine 
of ' Lalla Rookh,' and the heroine of the Taj Mahal, — one 
of the most beautiful poems, and the most beautiful mauso- 
leum, in the world." 

"He got a good tomb to pay for it," said Scott ; " but it 
strikes me that these tombs are the biggest things in India. 
If I had been one of these old fellows, I would have lived 
in my tomb, and been buried outside." 

" So they did live there until they died," replied Richard, 
laughing. " These tombs they made their great reception- 
halls, and gave immense dinner-parties, etc., here, and tried 
to make their friends as happy as possible ; that when they 
were dead and buried, and the places closed up, they might 
be remembered and missed." 

" That was a jolly good dodge. But don't any one live 
in this city now?" 

" Not a soul but these beggars. You might if you 
wished : no one would stop you, or ask for rent." 

" Too lonesome ! too much fancy-work for^ me : I'd rather 
be excused," replied Scott. " But I should think that these 
Hindus, who are used to it as you might say, would come 
up here for the summer at least." 

" It is very strange about this place," replied Mr. Cliff- 
ton. " It was built as if by magic, almost in a single night, 
to please the fancy of that almost omnipotent emperor. 
Here the court came for just twelve years ; and then the 
marble city and the old mud vilE'<^ outside the gate were 
deserted, — absolutely deserted. No one has ever lived here 
since." 

"How long ago was that?" Scott asked. 

" A little over three hundred years." 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDAKAM, 22q 




CHAPTER XIII. 

DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 

'jS much as Scott longed to be in Delhi, it was with 
great regret that he left Mr. Cliffton's hospitable 
home, a few days later, and with Mr. Raymond 
took the train for Tundla, where they found the 
express waiting ; and early the next morning they rolled over 
the long stone bridge, and close to the fort-wall, till they 
reached the station. 

" There are some dhobis tearing some one's clothes to 
pieces, and breaking somebody's buttons," said Richard as 
they saw several native washermen in the river doing their 
work. "That reminds me. — Moro, bring usdidhobi, the first 
thing you do." 

" Ha sahib," replied Moro, who understood perfectly, 
though all but the word dhobi Richard had spoken in 
English. And, as soon as they were located in comfortable 
quarters, Moro appeared with the desired washerman ; and he 
and Sayad prepared the clothes, and made a list of them, 
which they each handed to their respective masters to look 
over while they counted their clothes before them. 

" This is a precaution which it is second nature for them 
to take," Richard explained, laughing as Scott seemed reluc- 
tant to appear to distrust the boy who had served him so 
well. " They know themselves that they are such thieves, 
that they would only think you a fool if you did not keep a 
sharp lookout for them." 



2 30 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" I don't believe this fellow would steal," said Scott, looking" 
toward Sayad. 

" See that handkerchief sticking out of his girdle," said 
Richard. " I warned you to be careful." 

Scott looked, and to his horror saw one of his own silk 
handkerchiefs peeping from beneath Sayad's girdle. 




THE RAILROAD BRIDGE OVER THE JTTMNA AT DELHI. 

" The wretch ! " he muttered. 

"Oh, no!" replied Richard, laughing: "he's just as good 
a boy as he was before. He only wants looking after, that 
is all." 

" Every city, so far, is so very different from every other," 
said Scott, as they took their first walk in Delhi. " There 
is just a sort of family resemblance, but nothing more. How 
broad and 'beautiful this avenue is, with the line of trees 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 231 

through the centre, and only the low houses on each side ! 
such pretty houses, and all so different from any thing else ! 
And this marble aqueduct, carrying such clear cold water in 
an open stream down each side of the street, — who ever 
thought of such a thing? But how cooling and refreshing it 
must be to the tired, heated fellows at their work ! " 

" You are quite right, Scott. This water is brought in the 
marble aqueduct for eighty-three miles, to supply the city 
with water that is cool and fresh when the river becomes 
heated and low in the dry season. It was done at the 
expense of one of the queens, long years ago ; and when 
it was finished, to prevent the rich from ever monopolizing it 
in any way, so that the poor could not have the benefit, she 
decreed that the two aqueducts should extend the whole 
length of this street, the Chandi Chouk, or Street of Silver 
light, and that they should always be uncovered for the 
entire distance." 

" That's not a bad name for a street," said Scott. " But 
what is this immense square that we are coming to, with 
that — what is it ? a mosque, isn't it ? it has minarets — on 
the right." 

"Yes, it is a mosque, Scott, — the most beautiful public 
mosque, and the largest one, in India. Do you see, this wall 
extends entirely around it? and there are gates exactly like 
this on every side. Over the wall you can see the front of 
the principal arch, and the three domes of the mosque, and 
the minarets." 

" Do they have any Sundays, and sermons in those 
mosques ? " asked Scott. 

" Friday is the Mussulman's holy day," replied Richard. 
"It is as much his Sunday as any day ; but they never have 



2X2 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



sermons, except in times of excitement over something. 
They often have short lectures by the priests, but they are 
chiefly the repeating of the Koran, They beHeve in more 
Bible, and less expounding of it." 

" That's the talk," exclaimed Scott. " I wish they'd come 
over and teach that doctrine to some of our ministers. Oh, 
how tired I get in church, sometimes ! " he concluded with a sigh. 

They went into a little chapel at one corner of the wall ; 




DELHI OF THREE THOUSAND YEARS AGO. 



where, with great reverence, the priests took out for them 
treasure after treasure from their store of sacred relics. 
Rolled up in innumerable papers, they had a hair from the 
beard of Mohammed, an old crumbled sandal that he once 
wore, and a manuscript copy of the entire Koran, written by 
his favorite daughter, Fatima. 

They climbed one of the minarets, and obtained an exten- 
sive view of the immense plain and the ruins surrounding 
the city. 

"How old are the'se ruins?" asked Scott. 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 2X\ 

" That tomb with a dome, yonder, is about eleven hun- 
dred years old," replied Richard ; and, while Scott tried in vain 
to stretch his imagination, he continued. " But there are so 
many interesting places there, that we must find a first-rate 
guide, and take two or three days to see them all. There 
are ruins there of buildings that were erected over three 
thousand years ago, and some even older. There are relics 
of the first Aryan conquerors, and that was nearer five thou- 
sand years." 

" Oh, wait a minute ! wait a minute ! " cried Scott. " I 
have not got over the first three thousand yet. But the 
Aryans, did you say? Why, I thought that we in America 
were descended from the Aryans." 

" Quite right, Scott. Five thousand years ago the Aryans 
divided. Half of them followed Mr. Greeley's advice, and 
went west ; and half of them came south-east. We are 
directly descended from one branch, and these Hindu heathen 
are as directly descended from the other." 

"You don't mean to say that we come from precisely 
the same stock ? " said Scott in surprise ; adopting the ver- 
nacular of the Beverly farmers, for want of any thing more 
expressive. 

" Just precisely," replied Richard. 

"Well, that's what makes the Hindus look so much like 
Europeans, in spite of their dark skin, — so much more than 
the Africans and Chinese and the Japs ; isn't it ? " 

" That is it precisely, Scott. You're quite a philosopher. 
Now point the glass a little to the right till you hit the 
Kutub Minar, that tower that rises against the sky. Do you 
find it?" 

" I have it, sir," replied Scott, as he found the high tower 
at last. 



2 34 OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 

" That is a minaret," said Richard. 

" A minaret ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" Yes, only a minaret. It was built almost a thousand 
years ago ; and the temple about it, that has been almost 
demolished now, in fanatic wars, was the largest Mohamme- 
dan mosque ever built. That minaret is only forty-eight feet 
in diameter at the base ; but, with the little cap, that has been 
torn away now, it was two hundred and sixty-seven feet 
high. It is beautifully ornamented to the very top. By and 
by you will be studying architecture ; and, unless times change 
a great deal, you will learn that the campanile in Florence, 
built by Giotto after this mosque had begun to crumble, is 
the triumph of tower-building. You may find a note at the 
foot of the page, admitting that a possible rival may be a 
Mussulman or a Hindu minaret in the plain of old Delhi. 
This, in spite of the fact that the Kutub was higher than 
the campanile, that it is round where the other is angular, 
that it is beautifully ornamented where the other is almost 
plain, and that it is in vastly better proportions, according 
to geometric laws, than the work of Giotto." 

From the Jumma Musjid they went across the square to 
the old fort opposite. It was more dilapidated than the fort 
and palaces at Agra, though in its glory it had been more 
beautiful. 

" These walls look as if they had had the small-pox," Scott 
remarked as they went through the royal apartments, where 
the elaborate carving remained, but the jewels and gold had 
all been taken out. 

" That is the result of the rage with which the English 
soldiers appropriated every thing that was valuable, to pay 
the Hindus for having kept them so long outside the gates 




KXmJB MINAR. 



236 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

besieging the city," replied Mr. Raymond. " But there is 
one little gem here that they did not demolish, simply 
because there was nothing but white marble about it. It is 
the Pearl Mosque, all walled in by a high fence of white 
marble, where the hundred wives of the emperor worshipped. 
There is only one little door by which it could be entered, 
and that was kept guarded by eunuchs. Inside, it is a per- 
fect gem." 

From the palace they walked to the famous Cashmere 
gate, in the old wall about the city. 

" I want you to see the breach that was made, through 
which the British entered the city. They tried in vain to 
reduce the natives here, and at last Col. Nicholson announced 
that the task was to be abandoned for the time unless a 
breach could be made in the wall. He offered an immense 
reward to any soldiers who would take kegs of powder up 
to this old wall, and blow it up. Three Hindu traitors 
were among those who dared to venture for the reward, and 
offered to run the risk. Two of the three were shot on the 
way. The third sprang over yonder bridge, and ran down the 
moat that was only half full of water. He fired the powder, 
and escaped. The British entered. The poor fellow only 
enjoyed his notoriety for a little while, however; for the 
mutiny was no sooner subdued than he fell dead under the 
dagger of Dhondaram." 

" I can't help it, Mr. Raymond," Scott said a little later, 
as they walked along the bastion : "I somehow admire that 
Dhondaram." 

" He is a hero, there's no doubt of that ; and perhaps 
you are a hero-worshipper, Scott," returned Richard.. 

" It's not that exactly," said Scott. "■ I cannot help feel- 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 



237 



ing that there is something good in the man : there is some- 
thing that is really noble, for all it seems so wicked, in what 
you have told me of him. Don't you think he believes he 
is doing right?" 

"It is vengeance and fanaticism with him," returned Mr. 
Raymond. " I would hardly put it that he thinks he is 



















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THE CASHMERE GATE OF DELHI. 



doing right, but I don't imagine he stops to think that he 
is really doing very wrong." 

" There is a litde English chapel, just over the knoll," 
Richard continued as they approached the gate, " built to 
commemorate the success of the British. It is dedicated as 
a memorial to the English martyrs who fell here. To-morrow 
is Sunday. Shall we go there to church?" 



238 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Scott thought upon it seriously for a moment, and 
replied, — 

" I believe I should rather be excused. I should be mad 
about the mutiny, instead of mourning for the British mar- 
tyrs. If there is a mission church about, I think I should 
rather go there, and get you to translate the sermon as you 
did in Bombay. Is there a mission here?" 

Mr. Raymond did not answer directly, and Scott looked 
toward him. He had gone a little distance to one side, and 
was studying a paper posted on the gate. The notice was 
written, and officially signed, in three languages; and there 
were already a dozen or more reading it, or translating it to 
others. They seemed much excited. It must have just been 
put there, for a moment before there was no one at the gate. 
The same frown had gathered on Mr. Raymond's face that 
Scott had seen there once before ; and looking up anxiously 
he asked, — 

"Is there any trouDie, Mr. Raymond?" 

" No trouble, my boy ; oh, no ! I was only reading that 
notice, and thinking." 

" What was the notice ?" asked Scott. 

" It says that the traitor Dhondaram is known to be in 
the province, and increases the reward that is offered for his 
head." 

" Dhondaram here ! " exclaimed Scott. " I should like to 
see him." 

" You may have a chance, Scott. I thought he must be 
dead, but it seems they are after him as hard as ever." 

While they were standing there the crowd continually 
increased. Just then a European pressed through, without 
seeming to notice any one, but in great excitement pushed to 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 239 

the front, and looked up at the notice. He began to read, 
and shuddered. He read on. 

It was very near where they were standing. The crowd 
was becoming so dense that Scott attempted to move away. 
Mr. Raymond stood still. Scott spoke to him : he did not 
answer. Scott looked up : his face was white ; his eyes were 
fixed on the man who was reading the notice. 

" Do you know him, Scott ? " Richard muttered in a low 
voice. 

Scott looked at the man again. He finished reading, and 
with a hollow laugh he turned away. 

" Roderick Dennett ! " escaped from Scott's parted lips. 



240 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XIV. 

SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 

AVING once fixed his eyes on the man he was 
searching for, Mr. Raymond did not easily lose 
sight of him. Scott had no further occasion to 
complain of lack of energy. He walked rapidly. 
He seemed to be in a hurry, and the crowd was much more 
dense in the streets he chose than outside the gate. Mr. 
Raymond did not dare to follow too closely. But at a dis- 
tance they saw Roderick Dennett enter the Dak Bungalow. 

" He must have just come," said Richard. " Let me go 
in first, and you may come in a few minutes if there is no 
trouble. Paul is not there, I think. Probably Dennett is 
here to meet him, and will be frightened away by that notice. 
It is very likely that Dhondaram is on his path." 

Richard went in. Scott was too eager to wait, and fol- 
lowed after only an instant's delay. Almost together they 
entered the bungalow. It seemed utterly deserted. Richard 
pushed his way without ceremony into the side room. Den- 
nett was bending over a valise. He was evidently hurrying 
his things into it to leave ; and, thinking it the keeper who 
had entered, he said, without looking up, — 

'* I am going on for a few days. I have some trunks and 
boxes at the railway, and will have them sent over here. 
Take care of them for me, and I will pay you well." 

Then, seeming to realize that he had made a mistake, he 
looked up. 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 241 

" Raymond ! " he gasped ; and, starting to his feet, he drew 
his revolver. 

Mr. Raymond sprang upon him ; and, throwing him down, 
wrenched the revolver from his hand before he fairly realized 
what was taking place. 

'* Ha ! You've done it now. Go ahead, and kill me ! ' 
he muttered as Richard held him fast. 

Richard looked at him savagely for a moment, while Scott 
stood in the doorway aghast. Then, shaking his head, he 
replied, — 

" No, Roderick. You saved my life when we were boys 
in Beverly, and it has saved yours more than once since 
then. I have no desire to kill you." 

" Then, give me over, and have me hung," growled Den- 
nett through the choking grasp that Richard had fixed upon 
his throat. 

"You deserve that richly, but I will let some one else 
do it," Richard replied. 

" Then, what do you want of me ? " he asked, looking toward 
the door, evidently suspicious that there were others waiting 
for him. 

" I want several things ; and every one of them I will 
have before you escape me, no matter what it costs." Richard 
spoke in a way that yielded nothing. " I want the secret 
records that you stole from me, and the locket you took from 
my room. I want the signet and the badge of the governor- 
general. I want the key to the safe where your counterfeit 
rupee stamp is kept, and directions where I can find it. I 
want a written statement from you that Mr. Clayton had 
nothing to do with the defalcation and robbery in Boston, and 
just what disposal you made of the bonds. And I want you 
to give up Paul Clayton." 



242 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

*' You ask too much. I will not do it," replied Roderick 
sullenly. 

"Very well," said Richard calmly : "then I will hand you 
over to the British government. You will be hung as a 
murderer ; and I shall find out all I wish without your help, 
and have your belt besides." 

" I have no belt," gasped Roderick, making a desperate 
struggle to rise. 

But it was impossible ; for Mr. Raymond held him In a 
grip of iron, with muscles that had hardened in the jungle, 
and toughened with the rifle and the sword. 

" Fm not come to dispute with you, or to treat you as I 
have before," he said sternly. " It's neck or nothing with you 
this time, Dennett. You might as well begin, and give me 
what I want." 

Roderick hesitated for a moment. 

"You've got the best of me, Raymond," he said at last. 
"If I do what you ask, are we quits ? " 

" I'll make you no promises, Roderick. Those things 1 
will have, for they concern me." 

Roderick yielded without another word ; and Richard let 
go his hold, and, with the pistol in one hand, he said, — 

" Now go on, and tell me all." 

Roderick began, 

" The records and badge are with the Royal Rupee Mint, 
and are deposited with my friend Mobarak, in his safe in 
the Bhendi Bazaar. I just moved them there from their last 
hiding-place. The locket and the signet are in my belt. 
The memoranda of the disposition I made of the bonds and 
securities are in my valise there : it is unlocked. The writ- 
ten statement for Mr. Clayton I will give you when you will 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 243 

let me write. The boy I have not got, and don't know who 
has. I left him with a fellow in Benares ; and he got scared, 
and sent him away with some pilgrims. He said they were 
coming up to the Feast of Pungas. I came here to look for 
them." 

Without a word, Mr. Raymond opened Roderick Dennett's 
coat and vest ; and, reaching the belt, unbuttoned it, and drew 
it off. Dennett did not move, or make any remonstrance. 
The locket and signet were there. He opened the valise", 
and found the memoranda. Then he gave the valise to 
Moro, who stood behind the inner door. He turned to 
Roderick, and asked, — 

" Where are the receipts for your luggage, that you said 
was at the station ? " 

" You've nothing to do with my luggage," replied Dennett 
sullenly. 

" Give me the receipts," said Richard sternly. 

The man produced them, and Richard gave them to Moro. 

" Take the valise to my room, and have the luggage sent 
there at once," he said briefly, giving him a rupee. The boy 
left without a word • it was an adventure that he enjoyed. 

" Sayad," said Richard, " take a garri, and go to Mobarak 
in the Bhendi Bazaar. Tell him the chief of the Bombay 
service, and secretary of the viceroy, commands him to come 
at once to the Dak Bungalow, and bring with him Roderick 
Dennett's box. Bring him with you : if he refuse, call the 
English police. Give them my card, and have him brought." 

With military precision, as though he was entirely used 
to the business, Sayad departed. 

Richard took paper and pen from the table in the room ; 
"and, releasing Roderick's hands that he had bound, allowed 



244 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

him to sit up and write the statement, while he sat on the 
edge of the bed with the pistol in his hand, and Scott looked 
at his friend in astonishment. 

When the paper was ready, Mr. Raymond looked at it, 
nodded his head approvingly, signed it himself, asked Scott 
to sign it, and then put it in his pocket. 

" Now about the boy," said Richard. '* Have you lied 
to me ? " 

" I might well have lied about the whole," replied Roderick 
with a sneer. " You're not dealing on the square with me. 
Rich. Raymond." 

"No?" said Richard. 

'' It's none of your business to meddle with me, now that 
you've got the signet and the badge and the rupee press," 
muttered Roderick in a surly way. 

" Thank fortune, it's not an absolute duty of my office to 
turn you over to be hanged ! " replied Richard ; *' but it 
would be a favor that the government would remember, and 
reward well, I assure you." 

Roderick made no reply ; and Richard asked again, — 

" How is it about the boy?" 

" Just .as I told you." 

" But no one is going to keep him without being paid 
for it," said Richard sternly. And while he sat carefully 
watching the man, he began with one hand to take rolls 
of Bank-of-England notes for immense sums from the belt ; 
then he carefully put them back again, and folding the belt 
up, he put it in his coat-pocket. 

" The fellow gave the pilgrims a hundred pounds to take 
the child off his hands," said Roderick. "And he says he 
promised a hundred more when they delivered him to me 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST 245 

here In Delhi. I don't know who I'm waiting for ; but I'm 
waiting for them here, and I expect they'll find me some way ; 
but now, if you've taken up the trail, I'll let it drop. 'Twas 
rough luck for me that I got you to run away to sea with 
me," he added with a sneer. 

" You might have had friends who would have served you 
worse," replied Richard calmly. " But you must not leave me 
just now. You will be more likely to find the boy than I 
shall, and I'll keep this belt till you do find him. You can 
go ahead, and find the boy : and when you have brought him 
to me, I will return the belt ; it will be ten times the reward 
that is offered for him," he added, smiling sarcastically. 

Just then Sayad came in triumphantly, followed by a native 
of Africa, black as the blackest men of Zanzibar. He was 
much agitated, and dropped on the floor as he entered, touch- 
ing his forehead a dozen times to the ground. 

He brought with him a leather portmanteau, that was 
sealed over the keyhole, and evidently very heavy. He laid it 
at Mr. Raymond's feet ; and, without a word, Roderick took a 
key from his pocket, and passed it to Sayad, who gave it to 
Mr. Raymond. 

" Ha, you ! Mobarak, I have seen you before," said Rich- 
ard. " You used to live in Bombay. You were a bad man 
then ; and you have been growing worse, it seems. The air 
of Delhi does not agree with you. Go over there In the 
corner, and sit down an the floor. Don't you move, or I 
will shoot you dead before you can shut your eyes." 

He took a pistol from his pocket, and handed It to Sayad, 
directing him to watch the African banker, who had been 
engaged In passing Dennett's counterfeit rupees, and possibly 
in manufacturing them. Then he proceeded to open the 



246 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

valise, and seemed satisfied with the contents, as he closed 
it again, and, rising, asked Sayad if the carriage was at the 
door. 

" Get up on the top, you drop of Afric's sunny fountains," 
he said to the black banker, who instantly obeyed. "I'm 
going to take you back to your booth, and let you go on 
with your business. But let me hear of your passing another 
of these rupees, and it's a prison for life for you. Roderick, 
I hope to hear from, you directly," he added as they all left 
the Bungalow. 

The banker made a profound salaam, touching the earth 
again in his gratitude : then he climbed to a seat beside the 
driver of the garri. 

" We have taken another step," said Richard as they were 
being driven away; " and I hope the next will be the finding 
of little Paul." He spoke as calmly as though they had only 
seen another ruin. 

Then the day of the great Feast of Pungas dawned clear 
and warm, but nothing had been heard from Roderick Den- 
nett. 

"There is more than two hundred thousand dollars in that 
belt that I deposited with the English bankers," Richard said 
to Scott. " Depend upon it, he will redeem it." 

They went out into the city, and mingled with the excited 
crowd. It was a novel sight to Scott, and he almost forgot 
his anxiety in the constant changes. 

At last the grand procession of elephants was coming 
down the street. It would pass the open square before the 
Cashmere gate. 

*' We will get into a good position here where we can see 
it," said Richard ; and they stationed themselves as near the 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 247 

track as the already dense crowd would permit. They were 
in the very front before the procession passed. 

The long lines of gaudily decked elephants were on their 
way. One end had already disappeared before the other end 
came in sight. Scott was beginning to grow weary, when his 
eyes fell upon a little boy in European clothes, all alone in 
the dense throng of natives. He started : he trembled in 
every limb. The crowd swept on, and he lost sight of the 
boy. He caught Mr. Raymond's hand ; he tried in vain to 
speak ; he pointed, and dragged him forward. A sharp cry 
broke upon his ear from the voice he so well remembered. 
He was so excited that he did not distinguish the words, 
but others less interested heard, — 

" Dhondaram, Dhondaram ! " 

" In a moment the entire throng was transformed. It was 
electrified : it was demoralized. Cries of " Dhondaram ! " 
"Dhondaram!" rose on every side. Richard forgot Scott; 
and, freeing himself from his grasp, he started forward, think- 
ing only of Dhondaram. 

At the instant that the voice sounded, Scott, who was a 
little in advance of Mr. Raymond, had seen the little figure 
of his brother Paul dart before a huge elephant. He sprang 
after him. The elephant moved his trunk to one side to avoid 
the little stranger, and it struck Scott a severe blow that 
threw him down. In an instant the excited crowd was 
trampling upon him. He gave a sharp cry of pain, and a 
moment later was dragged from his perilous position, and in 
the strong arms of Mr. Raymond was carried away to the 
hotel. 

Scott was severely bruised. For three days his mind 
wandered, and Mr. Raymond and the best doctors that could 



248 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



be obtained fought with a raging fever that almost defied 
them. He incessantly talked of Paul and Dhondaram ; and, 
when he came to himself again, he repeated almost the same 
thing, only that then he did not associate Dhondaram with 
Paul. 

Mr. Raymond did not feel at all sure that Scott was cor- 




MASSUKI IN THE MOUNTAINS. 



rect, and that it was not a dream of his delirium ; but he 
allowed him to have his way, and pretended to believe that he 
had really seen Paul somewhere in the procession. 

A week later, when Scott had nearly recovered, Richard 
receved a telegram, as follows : — 

" Come to Massuri at once. Paul is in the mountains : I dare 



not follow alone. 



There is something wrong. 



" Roderick Dennett.' 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 249 

"The mountain air will be the best thing for you, Scott," 
said Richard ; " and I would rather take you with me than 
leave you behind. You can stop at Massuri if there is 
trouble, or you are not strong." 

" Indeed, I will go ! " exclaimed Scott eagerly. 

" Very well, then : we will leave for the Himalaya Moun- 
tains on the express to-night," replied Richard. 



250 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XV. 

YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 

HEN he had finished his supper of milk and rice- 
cakes, — and little Paul was very hungry, for he had 
eaten nothing but sweet limes and bananas, and had 
taken a long walk, and suffered a deal of anxiety 
for a small boy in the mean time, — Dhondaram ate what was 
left, and sat down beside him. 

"Did you bring that for your supper too, Dhondaram?" 
asked Paul, looking up into the face that so many feared to 
the very marrow of their bones. " I wasn't very good to eat 
so much of it ; " and he stroked the bearded cheek, and put 
his little white hands over the black eyes that had made the 
blood of many a strong man turn cold. 

" I was only helping the little Feringhi," replied Dhon- 
daram gently. "And now is my little sahib sleepy? Will he 
lie down in this poor place, and shut his pretty blue eyes ? 
It is not comfortable." 

"Anywhere where you are, Dhondaram, is very nice. I 
will not stay again in a place like the biri wallah's, where you 
left me this morning. 1 will follow you without waiting. I 
am glad I came and found you." 

" I am glad too," replied Dhondaram as he spread out a 
mat on the hard floor, and made it as soft as he could by 
folding another mat under it, and putting his turban under 
the top to act as a pillow. He did not tell little Paul that 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



25 1 



the remnant of his supper was all he had eaten since the 
night before on the banks of the Jumna, or that there was not 
another mat for him to lie on. He brought a little cup of 
water, and washed Paul's face and hands as tenderly as a 
mother could have done it, — though not so proficiently, 
of course, — and wiped them on his girdle. Then he laid 
the little fellow upon the mats, and cross-legged sat down 
beside him. 

" Kashibai will be here In the morning," he said ; " and she 
will make the place more comfortable." 

"Who is Kashibai, Dhondaram?" asked Paul as he lay 
comfortably stretched on the mats. 

" She is very good ; she is Gunga's mother : she will love 
you," replied the muni. 

" I love Gunga," said the boy. " When am I going to see 
her?" 

" Soon, soon," replied Dhondaram. 

" Dhondaram," said Paul looking up, "who gave you your 
name ? " 

" My mother," replied Dhondaram solemnly. 

"Who is my mother, Dhondaram?" 

The muni hesitated for a moment. " Gunga's mother, 
Kashibai, will be your mother : she will love you." 

"Will she give me a name too?" asked Paul. "You have 
nothing to call me by but Feringhi, and that means ' something 
different ; ' and I don't want to be something different ; I want 
to be just the same. I am sorry I am white. Couldn't you 
make me dark, like you, Dhondaram?" 

A fire seemed flashing from Dhondaram's eyes. He was 
silent for a moment : then he said suddenly, " Yes ; if you 
would like it I can make the litde F^nnghi almost as dark as 
I am." 



252 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

''And call me something like you too," exclaimed the boy, 
sitting upright with a cry of joy. 

" You shall be my brother, my Dhakta Bhai. No, no ! " he 
added hurriedly, " I am not good enough for that. You shall 
be my master, — my Swami. Your name shall be Hari. It is 
the name of my God." 

" I be your master, and you mind little me ! you're terribly 
big for that ! " said Hari-Paul ; but he threw himself into the 
arms that had held the knotted rumal and the blood-stained 
dagger, and nestled there ; sending a thrill through the iron 
heart to stop whose beating the British government offered 
to pay over ten thousand dollars in gold. 

" I can mind you all the better for being large," said the 
muni at last ; but the voice trembled that had rung firm and 
clear before death and all sorts of terrible dangers, and the 
eyes that had never flinched were dimmed with tears. 

" I want you to be my elephant, and carry me as the ele- 
phants did the men to-day," said Paul at last, clapping his 
hands, and starting to his feet. 

" I'm hardly big enough for that," said Dhondaram ; " but 
I can be your horse. Come you, my Hari-Sahib, get on my 
back, and we will go where you will." 

And the bare-headed muni, the terror of India, on his 
hands and knees went galloping round the bare floor of that 
dimly lighted, wretched room, with the pale-faced, blue-eyed, 
brown-haired Hari-Paul crowing and laughing and shouting 
on his back, his little hands clinging mercilessly to the lock 
of long black hair that In Hindu fashion grew from the top of 
his horse's head. 

It mattered little that he had walked all night with the 
boy upon his shoulder, and that he had walked all day in the 



254 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

procession : Dhondaram was as wild and happy as Paul. And 
yet the boy was not quite happy ; for the very excitement 
of the game seemed to bring back to him other hours, — hours 
full of sunshine and laughing, — and other surroundings, when 
he had not been the Hindu Hari, but — 

He tried in vain to catch the dream. It vanished, as it 
always had, just as it touched his eyes. 

When the sport was ended, Hari, at a loss for something 
new, said, — 

" Now you must make me dark, just like you, Dhon- 
daram." 

" I will get something to put on your hands, and let you 
see how you like it, my Hari-Sahib," replied the muni. " I 
will come back at once, and bring it with me," 

He went out, and Paul began to be frightened again 
the moment he' was alone. He would have followed had he 
not found the door locked again. But Dhondaram had only 
gone around one corner to a dye-house, where he was sure 
he was unknown, and there procured the material with which 
he stained the boy's hands and face a delicate brown. They 
were not so dark as the muni's, but they were no longer 
white ; and Paul was happy. He lay down again, and this 
tim.e he was fast asleep in a moment. 

He slept soundly. He did not know that the muni, close 
to his little brown head, sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning 
against the wall, and only half sleeping, anxiously starting up 
at every sound ; and that many a time he put his hand out in 
the dark to see if all were well with his little eod Hari. Near 
morning he gently cut off one of the brown curls that clustered 
about the boy's head, but it did not disturb him. 

When Paul awoke in the morning the room was much 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHIB. 



•00 



changed. There were two small screens and several mats ; 
there was a little fire in a small iron, stove that could be 
carried about in the hand, burning in one corner, and over it 
a woman was cooking the breakfast. She was a Hindu woman, 
very delicate and pretty in figure, wearing only a little close- 
fitting chouli about her shoul- 
ders, that hardly reached her 
waist, and a bright cloth bound 
closely about her hips. Her 
legs and arms were bare, except 
for broad bands of gold and 
silver that circled her wrists and 
ankles ; and there were large 
ear-rings in her ears, and a 
little gold star on one side of 
her nose. On her toes were 
silver rings, that clinked as she 
walked on the bare places on 
the floor. Beside the fire sat 
Dhondaram. Paul knew it was 
Dhondaram, for he heard his 
voice. But what a change ! A 
huore red turban was twisted 
about his head in graceful, but 
brigandish folds. His beard was shaven off", leaving only a 
heavy mustache that looked fiercer than ever. Instead of the 
plain muni's frock that was all he had worn, bound at the 
waist with a simple girdle, he wore a loose woollen jacket, with 
flowing sleeves. An enormous girdle, the same color as his 
turban, was wound about his waist ; and he wore a pair of 
loose woollen breeches to the knees, and a pair of heavy 




DHONDAKAM IN ARMOR. 



2^6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

sandals on his feet. Leaning against the wall behind him was 
a sword almost five feet long. 

Dhondaram and the woman were engaged in earnest 
conversation in a low tone, but Paul could distinctly hear and 
understand most of what they said. 

"Why should I defile myself?" muttered the woman. 
"Am I not a Bramhan woman? Are you not a Bramhan? 
Am I not desolate that you wander as you do ? Do I not 
die every day, till the wind is ever in my bones ? Am I not 
cursed by the breath that I breathe, and the food that I eat? 
Have I not already defiled myself a thousand times, till my 
penance and purification keep me the day long, and the 
voice of the mother speaks feebly now, and sometimes not 
at all ? When will this wandering cease, Dhondaram ? When 
will these wild ideas of yours have rest ? The boy is well 
enough. I wish him no ill. I would do him no ill. I would 
injure no one. I hate no one except the ones you hate, and 
who have injured you. But why, in the blissful moment when 
the gods and the mother smile upon me, and place the rose 
in my bosom, the attar on my hair ; when the star is once 
more in my heaven, and the breath again in my body ; when 
I can cook the food that Dhondaram eats, and fan Dhondaram 
while he eats it ; when I live again, O jewel of my crown of 
joy ! — why ask me to die in this hour, and defile myself again ? 
And yet I will do it. Yes, I will feed and bathe the Feringhi. 
Yes, I will care for him. Yes, by the mother, on the neck 
of my daughter Gunga, I swear I would nurse a pariah upon 
my breast if Dhondaram should ask it." 

" Dhondaram does not ask it," replied the muni. " Cursed 
be the day, and defiled he that breathes in the hour, that 
Dhondaram asks any thing of any one. To the viceroy from 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 257 

England, to the guru, the pundit, the rajah, Dhondaram 
speaks ; and cursed is he who forgets to hear. Who will not 
tell you so? Did you not hear the city howling yesterday 
with the name of Dhondaram? It will howl again and ao-ain, 
till Dhondaram's thirst is quenched. But to you Dhondaram 
does not speak. He thinks ; and you read his thoughts, and 
do as it pleases you. Who ever bound thy hand ? Thou art 
Kashibai. I am Dhondaram. Thou art the holy mother's, and 
I am — well, I am Bhowani's too; but to you she is soft and 
gentle ; she is fairest of all the blest in the paradise of Indra : 
to me she is blood and death and cruelty. Who am I, that I 
should wish you to do what I would do willingly ? No : the 
little Feringhi shall go with me." 

He turned to Paul ; and, seeing that he was awake, he 
crossed the room, and bending over him he asked, — 

" Would the little Sahib like to go into the mountains 
with me ? " 

Paul's lip trembled. He had been frightened by the con- 
versation that he had overheard, and by the new costume 
that made Dhondaram look so savage. He realized that 
the woman did not like to have him there. In fact, though 
he did not know it, he was homesick ; and the name by which 
Dhondaram called him was the last straw. He turned over 
on the mat, and began to cry. 

" Oh, I am not a Feringhi ! I am not a Feringhi ! I am 
not ' something different ' ! I wish it were last night," he 
sobbed. "Look at my hands, Dhondaram, look! I am 
black. I am like you." 

He held up his litde hands. The muni caught them, and 
pressed them to his forehead. 

"It is last night now, and always will be while Dhondaram 



258 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



is free," he responded solemnly. " You are my Hari, my 
god of gods, now and always. It is not that I am rich that 
you love me. I have given you no gold ornaments. I have 
only a little water here with which to bathe ypu. I will bring 
you some breakfast and sweet limes then, and to-night we 
will start for the mountains." 

"I want to see Gunga," said Paul, still sobbing a little. 

At four o'clock that afternoon, right through the crowded 
streets of Delhi, a Brinjari chieftain walked slowly, with head 
erect, and a little Persian boy beside him, affectionately 
clinging to his hand. The light brown skin of the Persian 
contrasted peculiarly with the darker hue of the Brinjari chief 
in his dashing costume ; and many a one, as they passed, 
stopped to look at the bright blue eyes that were so peculiar 
and unusual, and shuddered at sight of the ugly sword 
hanging over the right shoulder of the chief. Many even 
stopped the servant who was carrying a large bundle on his 
head behind them, to ask him which of the great men of 
his people this one was. But he only stared at them, and 
shook his head. Scott would hardly have recognized little 
Paul, and no one in all Delhi repeated the name of Dhon- 
daram when they saw the chief. 

They stopped at a booth in the outskirts of the bazaar; 
and Dhondaram bought a sack of maize meal, and a small 
bunch of little red peppers, which the servant added to the 
bundle upon his head. 

They even walked directly to the English railway- station, 
and in the mountain dialect the servant purchased tickets In 
the third-class car for Amritsar. Dhondaram and Paul stopped 
for a moment before such a notice as Scott saw on the Cash- 
mere gate, then took their places in a car already crowded 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



259 



with natives. They fell back, and gave them more room than 
any one else had in the car ; looking suspiciously at the long 
sword, but not suspiciously at Dhondaram. 

They stopped when within twenty miles of the city. 
Dhondaram was perfectly informed about every thing, and 




THE CORN-CHANDLER. 



knew that a caravan he wished to join had not yet reached 
the station. 

It was a little lonely country town, on a narrow, rushing 
mountain river. Dhondaram, with Paul and his servant, 
walked up the bank a little way, and took a native boat, to 
be carried to the caravan trail that passed at no great 
distance. 

As they were about to embark, Paul caught sight of a 
little stone figure that looked like a tiny elephant sitting on 



200 



CJ^ BOYS lU INDIA, 



his haunches, and having fore-feet Hke his own hands and 
arms. 

"What is it? what is it?" he asked eagerly, as a native, 
bareheaded, came up to the Httle image, and began to pour 
water over it, and to drape it with flowers. 

Phondaram's hps curved scornfully, much as they had 










Jf)'J 




BATHING AN IDOL. 



when looking at the image of Kali. He was evidently not 
the devout Hindu that many, thought him. 

"An atom of God," he replied in an undertone. "That 
man is bathing his preserver. He is praying," he said 
aloud. 

"Do you never pray in that way?" asked Paul: ** if you 
do, will you teach me?" 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHIB. 261 

"Why should I pray Hke that?" said the muni. "God 
is everywhere. The great essence of Bramha fills all space. 
If I would pray to an elephant, it should be to one that God 
had made, and not to one that some beggar had manufactured 
to earn his bread." 

" But I never pray at all, Dhondaram. And now I am 
like you, and have a name, and all that ; and I want to learn 
to pray. Can't I pray without pounding myself the way you 
do ? I tried to do that when I was at the biri wallah's, and 
found you were not there ; but it hurt me." 

The muni stroked his little hand ; and answered, — 

"That was only for the boatmen: I was not praying to 
God. The great, real Bramha cannot be pleased to see men 
hurt themselves. No, no, my Hari ! I know very little : I 
am perplexed. Religion is a myth, a folly : God alone is a 
reality. There is some way to worship him, but it is not as 
I and my people do it. You are little now, but you will know 
it all some day ; and when you have found out what God is, 
and how he is best worshipped, if Dhondaram is still alive, 
you must come back and tell him, and he will kneel at your 
feet and worship God, — your God, my Hari." 

" How could I come back to you when I am never, never 
going away from you, Dhondaram ! " exclaimed Paul. " Teach 
me, oh, teach me to pray like you and every one else ! " 

They had been floating rapidly down the river, and now 
were landed where they had but a short walk over the hills 
to the caravan trail. The boat moved away ; and, sending 
the servant on ahead, Dhondaram sat upon the ground close 
upon the bank of the river, and, drawing Paul to him, said, — 

" I will teach you a prayer, little Hari-Sahib, — a prayer 
that you will never be told not to say; and I can show you 



262 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

how to say it. I cannot say it in the language that we are 
speaking, but in my own language, the Marathi. You will not 
understand it all ; but you can remember it, and know that 
you are praying to God." 

He bathed his face and hands that he might be clean, 
according to his own teaching; and very slowly he repeated, 
and Paul followed him, — 

" He amachya Akashantil Bapa, tujhe nam pavitra manile 
zavo ; tujhe rajya yevo ; jase akashant tase prithvivarahi tujhya 
ichchhepramane hovo ; amachi rozachi bharkar az amhas de ; 
ani jase amhi apalya rinyas sodato, tase tu amachi rine amhas 
sod ; ani amhas parikshept neu nako, tar amhas waitapasun 
sodiv ; kaki rajya ani parakram ani mahima hi sarvakal tujhi 
ahet. Amen." 

Over and over again they A^ent through the prayer, till Paul 
could repeat it almost without a mistake, kneeling by the 
muni's side, and closing his brown hands before his breast. 

Then suddenly they heard the voice of the servant calling 
from the top of the hill, that the caravan was already in sight ; 
and taking Paul on his shoulder, Dhondaram hurried on. 

Reaching the point where the servant stood, they could 
see a dense cloud of dust rising in the plain beyond ; and 
through it they could discern horses and camels, and a vast 
herd of cattle, with men and women and children all about 
them. Paul clung more closely to Dhondaram. 

"The little Hari must not fear," he said. "They are all 
friends of mine there. I feared they would not be here so 
soon. We shall go a little way with them, for they have 
news for me ; and you need not be tired any more, for 
while we are with them you shall ride upon a fine horse, and 
the servant here will ride behind you to hold you fast." 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



163 



'* I would rather ride here on your shoulder," said Paul. 

"You will have plenty of chances for this, Hari-Sahib, 
when we cannot find a horse." 

Several of the leaders now came rapidly riding up to 
Dhondaram. They had no difficulty in recognizing him, and, 
dismounting, made very low salaams, as though he were a ruler 
among them. 

Hastily directing his servant to mount one of the horses 
that those before him had brought up, he placed Paul before 
him, and gave the bundle to one of the soldiers of the cara- 
van who now reached them. Then he pressed Paul's hand to 
his forehead, and said, — 

" You are safe, little Sahib. You have but to speak, and 
they will bring me ; and very soon I shall ride beside you." 

Then, turning to the officers, he spoke in a language that 
Paul could not understand ; nor could he have heard much, 
for the servant immediately drove away with him. 

"What news from the Nana?" was what Dhondaram 
asked ; and the officer replied, — 

" He is still in danger : the wound mends slowly. He 
much fears that he may die before the work is completed." 

" Send him word from me at once," said Dhondaram, 
" that only one of the condemned remains alive. Tell him 
that this one is now in these mountains ; tell him that I have 
a magnet that is drawing him toward me, and that he shall 
hear of his death in less than a month. Tell him to recover ; 
but if he dies, tell him to die in peace: Dhondaram has 
fulfilled the vow." 

He turned abruptly ; and, mounting another of the horses, 
evidently caring little how the fellows who had come up on 
them disposed of themselves, he rode on, and a moment later 
was beside little Paul. 



264 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



The men in the caravan were generally dressed much like 
Dhondaram ; and the women often wore long pointed orna- 
ments on their heads, to which their veils, or saris, were 
attached. Several of them had little naked children in their 
arms, and there were other children riding like Paul. Paul 
noticed that the cows all had curious saddles, and each one 
was laden with a small burden. Before the whole walked an 

immense bull, a stately fel- 
low, without a burden ex- 
cept a garland of flowers. 

Some of the merchants 
travelling with the caravan 
were most elaborately dec- 
orated. Their packs were 
on their camels' backs, — 
sometimes silk and costly 
cashmeres, sometimes 
precious stones or oils. 
They often had servants, 
and some of them a few 
private soldiers with them. 
They were often rolled up 
in limitless folds of cloth, over head and all, and always carried 
on their shoulders a long-barrelled and richly ornamented gun. 

A half hour before twilight the stately bull seemed to be 
examining the sun. It was round and red. Very soon he 
stopped, and began to eat the grass that grew abundantly in 
the valley. Then all the natives along the line, in their scanty 
costumes and with long blunt spears, who had been keeping 
the cows in motion when they would have stopped to eat, 
drove them together, and removed the saddles, letting them 




THE MERCHANT. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



265 



wander where they would. The horses were tethered by ropes 
from their necks to their fore-ankle. Here and there Paul 
noticed a man go a little way apart from the rest. They 
were Mussulmans, — though Paul did not know what that had 




THE DAYS MARCH THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS. 



to do with it, — and, dismounting from their camels, before 
they set them free they knelt beside them in prayer. They 
spread little mats upon the ground, and, taking off their 
shoes, stood erect, placing their thumbs to their ears, and 
opening their hands so that the palms were presented toward 



266 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Mecca : thus they began the prayer. Then they folded their 
hands upon their breasts, and with their heads bowed they 
prayed again ; then placed their hands upon their knees ; then 
knelt, with their hands still on their knees, and continued. 
After this they laid their hands upon the ground, and touched 
their foreheads several times to the earth. 

"That's another kind of praying, isn't it?" asked Paul, 
who, with Dhondaram, sat upon a little rug eating the food 
that the servant had prepared for them. 

" Yes," replied the muni, with a sneer : " they call it 
praying." 

" Isn't it so good as mine ? " the boy asked earnestly. 

" God may hear it ; but, if he does, it is through pity," 
replied the muni, with another sneer. 

" See if I can say my prayer," said Paul ; and, without 
waiting for an answer, he bathed his face and hands in Hindu 
fashion, by turning a little water for the purpose from a basin 
before him, and catching it in his hands ; then, kneeling 
by Dhondaram's knee, he repeated over and over again the 
prayer that the muni had taught him, needing much help, 
but every time improving. It became dark while he was 
praying, and a few torches and a few large fires were lighted 
to keep off the wild beasts. 

Suddenly a clear voice sounded from no great distance, 
chanting in Hindustani the old, old desert hymn of the Mus- 
sulman. Paul understood every word. 



"Whoever thou art, whose need is great, 
In the name of God, the compassionate 
And the merciful one, 
For thee I wait." 



\ 



268 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"That's pretty good," said Paul, as it sounded again and 
again and again from different parts of the caravan, where 
Mussulmans were wrapping themselves up for the night. 

"It would be," replied Dhondaram, "if they meant it." 

" How are we to sleep ? " asked Paul, who noticed for the 
first time, that, instead of the sun, it was the moon that was 
shining brightly ; and in the moonlight, the plain before them 
that had appeared so fresh and green with its grass and little 
flowers was now but a barren mass of ragged rocks outlined 
against the shadows, and by the moon there seemed to rise 
a huge mountain. Paul had not seen it before, and eagerly 
asked, — 

"Where did that come from, Dhondaram?" 

" It is only a cloud," said the muni, " driven up by cur- 
rents of air through the gorges. One sees very curious 
things here in the mountains. But we shall have a good 
place to sleep. They have prepared a tent for us." And 
rising, he took Paul in his arms, dreading even to let him 
touch his little feet to the uncertain ground, and carried him 
to a low camel's-hair tent, of black and white stripes, under 
which they both crept, and where Paul slept as soundly on 
the strong arm of Dhondaram as though it had been upon a 
soft white pillow in the cottage at Beverly Farms. 

The next day the caravan wound up a river-bank. Ragged 
mountains rose up almost directly out of the water. Upon 
their rocky sides deodars were growing, straight as arrows, 
though they were rooted only in clefts of the rocks in almost 
perpendicular precipices, and fed only on the dying lichens, 
and icy rills from the melting snows up above. 

Paul looked long and earnestly at the snowy peaks. 

" Where have I ever seen snow before ? " he asked 
Dhondaram. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



269 



" In your home, Hari-Sahib," he rephed. 

" Have I a home ? " he asked again. Dhondaram looked 
down at him. He was riding now before the muni. The 
blue eyes looked up wonderingly. 

" You must go to it, my treasure. You shall go to it. 
Dhondaram will not keep you." 




UP AMONG THE SNOWS. 



"But I want you to go, too, Dhondaram. Where is it? 
Is it far from here ? " asked Paul. 

"Far?" the muni laughed. "Far? Yes: it is far from 
here." There was a strange tremor in his voice : it was very 
unnatural. Paul said suddenly, — 

"But you will go, Dhondaram? You must go. Where 

IS It i 

"You shall know before long. You shall know all about 



270 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



it," remarked the muni sadly ; " and you will not forget old 
Dhondaram. No, you will not forget him." 

Paul threw one arm around the muni's neck : tears filled 
the clear blue eyes, and ran down over the brown cheeks. 
They were not so brown as at first. The dye was not lasting, 
and was wearing ofT. Dhondaram would not have renewed 




THE GOLEEN TEMPLE. 



it for the world. His treasure was the pale-faced boy. There 
were tears, too, in the muni's eyes. 

When they reached Amritsar they only remained to visit 
the beautiful golden temple, in the centre of the clear, cold 
mountain lake, and to exchange a few sentences in a language 
that Paul could not understand, with several bands of munis 
and pilgrims that were there. 

The city was greatly disturbed by notices posted every- 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



271 



where, stating that the great Guru, or the high priest of the 
golden temple, had seen in a vision that his holy father, who 
lately died, had been transformed into a fish, and was then 
swimming about in the lake. On account of this he forbade 
any one, under penalty of death, to catch a fish in the lake. 
The greater part of the population of the city was composed 
of poor or pilgrims, who depended chiefly upon the fish in 
the lake for food, and something like starvation stared them 
in the face. But Paul cared very little for Amritsar or the 
mandate, as he held fast to the muni's hand, and looked only 
into his face. 

It produced no effect on the boy when the muni said to 
him, " We must go to Massuri : it is a hard journey, but we 
will make it easy for the little Hari-Sahib," any more than it 
would if he had said " We will go to the other end of the 
world to-morrow." If Dhondaram only went with him he did 
not care. 

With a small escort of mountaineers they started into the 
defiles, the soldiers taking the lead and bringing up the rear. 

Sometimes the way led through beautiful valleys, with 
lovely flowers, and giant trees, and roaring mountain streams, 
with little bridges across them that were composed simply of 
branches of birch-trees twisted together ; and they would sag 
and bend and tremble when they were on them. But Paul 
clasped the muni's hand so much the closer, and followed 
where he led, only keeping quiet when he was frightened, and 
laughing when he was not. 

His face and hands became quite white again ; and he 
asked to have them once more colored, " With a black that 
will go all over me, and last till I am a great man like 
you." 



272 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



But the muni only assured him that he had no more of 
the material with him, and that he must wait ; and, as long 
as Dhondaram did not call him Feringhi, it made less 
difference. 

Sometimes they were under the shadow of towering 

mountains, where the eternal snows lay in the gorges ; and 

Paul was carried in a sort of bag, hung on a bamboo pole 

— - — that rested on the 

shoulders of sturdy 
mountaineers. The 
bag was open on 
one side ; and as he 
sat in it his feet 
hung out, and to 
prevent them from 
striking against the 
rocks, or being in- 
jured, they rested in 
a smaller bag just 
below. A dandi the 
mountaineers called 
the carriage ; and, as 
Paul was very light, they carried him so easily that he thought 
it almost as comfortable as riding on Dhondaram's shoulder. 

Often among the peaks and gorges there were curious 
stone houses, where they could rest for the night, — " caravan - 
sarais " Dhondaram called them ; and the people that clustered 
about them from the little hamlets in those almost inac- 
cessible recesses were as peculiar and interesting to Paul as 
was the little white-faced boy to them. 

While the servant who had come with them from Delhi 




A CURIOUS PEOPLE. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



273 



was preparing the fire and supper, these people would gather 
round, anxious to see and speak with any one who had come 
from " the world," as they called anywhere out of the Hima- 
layas. 

Many of them who had never seen a white boy before 
would creep up timidly and touch Paul's cheek, and then 
look at their fingers to 
see if the white came off. 
Their clothes were ugly ; 
but their faces were kind, 
and the smiles were pleas- 
ant. Many a merry time 
had the boy in playing 
with the superstitious 
children, who were mor- 
tally afraid of him if he 
really approached them, 
and in laughing over their 
struggles to speak Hin- 
dustani, in which, unwit- 
tingly, he had become a 
very competent little 
scholar. 

The older and braver would take off his hat, and proudly 
walk about beneath it, and question him, till his brain became 
bewildered, about the dye he used to make his hair so brown ; 
while they displayed with pride the reddish-yellow ends of 
their own black hair. 

Wood-cutters at their work in the vast forests would stop 
with their bundles on their heads, and drop their straight- 
helved axes to look at the little Feringhi riding past them in 




THE WOODCUTTER. 



2 74 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



a dandi ; and shepherdesses, with rings in their noses, and 
leather belts full of turquoise about their waists, and large 
bundles of hay balanced on their heads, would pause as they 
leaped over the rocks after the goats, to make a salaam to 
the white sahib, and wish him a godspeed (the speed of a 
heathen god, at least) down out of the mountains. 

Going as he did, Paul 
found a trip through the 
Himalayas a very much 
easier affair than many 
older ones have found it. 
He did not realize the 
dangers of the precipice. 
He had not been told 
that he should be dizzy, 
and that his head should 
swim, as he looked down 
those perpendicular cliffs, 
sometimes three thou- 
sand feet and more into 
the black gorges, where 
he could not even distin- 
guish the great towering 
deodars : so, holding fast to Dhondaram's hand, he looked 
down and laughed, and pretended he was about to jump, to 
see the muni spring and catch him. 

He would sometimes even laugh on the trembling birch- 
branch bridges crossing the deep gorges. What did he care 
for the roaring mountain rivers, though they were five hun- 
dred feet below ? He would have stood under an avalanche, 
tearing down the mountain-side, and jumped for joy to see 




SHEPHERDESS. 




THE BLACK GORGES. 



276 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



the great masses come bounding on ; he would have waited 
to watch the progress of some of the fearful land-slides, so 
much more dreaded than the avalanches ; he would have 
shouted in concert with the numberless echoes of the crash, 
crash, crash, of some great bowlder tearing down the moun- 
tain-side, though it came directly toward him, so long as he 
held that sinewy brown hand in his, and felt the hard muscles 
of the fingers as they gently clasped his little palm. 

What did he know about the blood-stained daggers and 
knotted rumals, and vows of terrible vengeance against a 
long list that Dhondaram and Nana Sahib called the " con- 
demned," and all the rest? What did it matter? 

It grew colder as they went higher ; but Dhondaram had 
known what was before them, and provided warm blankets 
of goatskin, in which Paul was so perfectly enveloped that 
the air proved but bracing, and the roses came back again to 
the cheeks that had been very pale ever since the terrible 
drugs to which Roderick Dennett had subjected him. He 
grew stronger every day. A European, to cross those passes, 
would have made out an endless list of necessities. He 
would have had a small army of servants. He would have 
suffered all the way. Dhondaram had crossed the mountains 
many times before. He knew just what little was a necessity, 
and where and how to provide every thing else by the way. 

At last they reached a little village far up among the snow 
peaks, in a little gorge between the eternal ice, where three 
or four hundred people live, no one knows how or why. 
They do nothing, they export nothing, they import nothing 
(nothing but tobacco, which they obtain in exchange for goat- 
skins). The houses were all front doors and one large hole 
dug out of the mountain behind. them. It was in the midst 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



^77 



of Ice, yet It was not cold there ; and very near at hand the 
goats — the village was supplied with several hundred — found 
abundant pasturage, often being obliged to stand almost erect, 
the cliffs upon which they feed are so nearly perpendicular. 

The people lived upon the goats' milk and the goats' flesh, 
and made their clothes from the goats' skins. They made 
very bad liquor, upon which they succeeded in getting drunk, 
out of the cedars growing just below ; and while the warm 
winds blew they raised just enough grain to keep them from 
starving till they could raise more. They sat in those front 
doors and smoked their hookahs all day long, for want of 
any thing in the world to do. For the rest that was absolutely 
necessary, they trusted to what little money they might receive 
from passing travellers. 

"This is the last but one, I think," said Dhondaram, as 
they pitched their tents for the servants and soldiers, and 
they themselves took refuge in one of the huts. " To-morrow 
we shall begin to go down the mountains, and we shall be 
among the flowers again." 

" But where are we going, Dhondaram ? I want to go 
and see Gunga and Prita," said Paul. 

The muni had grown more sad as days went by, and it 
made the boy sober. He only stroked the soft cheek, and 
replied, "The day after to-morrow, if I am told truly, you shall 
be with the ones you wish to see." 

" I wish I might see a great many things," said Paul a 
moment later. 

" You will soon know a great many things, and see more," 
replied the muni. 

With returning strength and rapid regaining of health, 
Paul philosophized more than he had ; and, as the muni dropped 



278 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



hint after hint, as though anxious to lead him on, he remem- 
bered more and more, though nothing perfectl}^ 

Early the next morning they began to go down the 
mountain. Dhondaram had sat all night by the side of his 
charge, communicating something of his own feeling, per- 
haps ; for Paul had waked up several times in the night, but 
always to find the muni bending over him. 

Perhaps it was weariness after such a night, or perhaps it 
was the grandeur of the scenery through which they passed, 
that made both Paul and his friend silent and sad through 
the long morning as they wandered on, more rapidly now, 
for the day's march before them was a long one. 

The tremendous peaks rose against the sky, white as 
marble at the summit; and a soft and most delicate pink tint 
covered the broad snow-fields below. They seemed to Paul 
to be very near, though they were a hundred and fifty miles 
away. The air of the mountains is so clear and pure that 
even the dark outlines of the gorges seemed perfectly defined. 
There was wall after wall of these mountains, not like the 
sharp peaks of ranges anywhere else in the world, but hurled 
together. Great domes and circling crowns, rising in such 
masses as to dispel the impression of their real height, though 
most of them were over twenty thousand feet above the sea. 
Little Paul in his dandi had been higher up than the sum- 
mit of Mont Blanc, the highest peak in Europe. 

As soon as the sun rose, the distant rumbling and low 
grumbling of glaciers, and the occasional thundering of ava- 
lanches and land-slides, filled the air with an incessant din, 
that grew louder and louder as the day wore on. 

The servant who accompanied them from Delhi had left 
earlier than they in the morning; but he had started earlier 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHLB. 



279 



every morning for several clays, only to appear again at night. 
To-day, however, it was long before sundown that he returned. 
He hurried to Dhondaram, and anxiously said, " Their coolies 
are setting up the tents on the heights just below. They 
remain there to-night, and go on by way of the clay cara- 
vansarai in the morning." 




THE CAMP ON THE HEIGHTS. 

'"Tis well," replied Dhondaram; and a strange low fire 
seemed lurking in his eyes. "We must reach the caravan- 
sarai, and sleep there to-night. How many are there? and 
who is the party ? " 

"There are two white men. He is one; and the other 
is from Bombay, with a young man who does not speak the 
languages. Their escort is five Rajpoots; their company, 
twenty servants." 



28o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" 'Tis well," said Dhondaram again. " Were the escort 
five hundred Rajpoots, or five regiments of British soldiers, 
what would it avail? Why should I continue flying like a 
cursed sore over a man's body ? Move on ! Move on rapidly ! 
It will be long after dark, and the way is dangerous." 

The train began again to move : and just as the sun was 
setting, they passed the heights that the servant had spoken 
of, where a large European tent was pitched ; and at a little 
distance, on the ground, sat a dozen or more native servants. 
The train moved a little below the heights ; but Dhondaram 
left it, and, walking up to the servants, began to talk with 
them : within full view two Europeans were standing by the 
tent. 

A little later the muni was again beside his charge ; and 
little Paul clasped his hand, and pleaded till he took him out 
of the dandi, and for another hour bore him through the 
darkling jungle upon his shoulder. 

"This is like the time when the boat was smashed," said 
Paul, patting the dark cheek that he could no longer see. 

The sinewy arm clasped close about the child. A shud- 
der shook the strong man. He .walked unsteadily. He almost 
fell on the uneven path. 

"If you should fall, I should fall too, shouldn't I?" asked 
the boy, laughing. 

" I will not fall while my Hari-Sahib is on my shoulder," 
replied Dhondaram, strengthening himself to the task, and 
walking more rapidly and firmly. 

" I don't care if you fall," said Paul carelessly : " 'twould 
be fun. It wouldn't hurt me." 

"How does the little Hari know that?" asked the muni, 
patting the shoulder upon which his uplifted hand rested. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHIB. 281 

" Oh ! you wouldn't let it hurt me," replied Paul confi- 
dently. " I like to be where I'm afraid, and be with you." 

It was dark. He could not see the tears roll down the 
furrowed face of the black-hearted murderer. 

For a moment the muni strode on through the darkness 
in silence. Even the touch of his feet in the track made no 
noise. At last, however, he lifted Paul from his shoulder, 
and took him across his breast. It rose and fell in deep and 
painful respirations. 

" Never mind," he said at last : '* they will take better care 
of you than Dhondaram can ; for he is rough and rude, and 
only a Hindu. They are like you. They will love you." 
His arms drew so close about the boy as almost to crush 
him, but Paul did not feel the pain. The muni added, " But 
they cannot love you more. No, no. It would be impos- 
sible." 

"Who will?" asked Paul indignantly. 

" You will know to-morrow. To-night you are Dhonda- 
ram's. Yes, to-night you are Dhondaram's." 

" I'm always yours," said Paul, as they reached the clay 
caravansarai. 

In the morning Dhondaram bathed Paul tenderly, and took 
from his bundle the prettiest suit of European clothes. At 
first Paul objected to taking off the bright Persian costume, 
bordered with fur, and the soft goat-skin robe that had pro- 
tected him so perfectly from the cold : but there was something 
of his dreams in the other clothes ; and they looked so pretty, 
after all, that he began to dance about the absolutely bare 
room of the caravansarai, and called to the rough mountain 
soldiers that had been their escort, to come in, and look at 
him. 



282 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

The stockings and shoes were almost more than Dhon- 
daram could master. But he who had grimly grasped the 
throat of many a fellow-man, and calmly stood over him to 
see him die of suffocation ; he who had smiled in the ghastly 
eyes that stared at him while his dagger lay buried in the 
victim's heart ; he who had laughed when infuriated crowds 
shouted, " Down with the outlaw Dhondaram ! Curses on the 
terror of India ! " he who had calmly led surging throngs of 
fanatics in even more terrible struggles than those reported 
of the mutiny ; he who knew neither shiver from the frozen 
mountain peaks, nor terror from the torrid heat of the plains, 
whose name was banned, whose heart was fearless, — knelt 
upon the clay floor, and patiently struggled to button the 
little shoes with his rough fingers, while he chatted to keep 
the child from being weary, and jumped about like an acrobat 
at a circus, to make him laugh, when his awkwardness had 
pinched the flesh, and started the tears into the blue eyes. 

The work was done at last, however : and, combing the 
brown hair with its persistent curls as nearly in European 
fashion as his unaccustomed hands could do it, he took a 
jaunty little American hat from the bundle ; and, putting it 
on Paul's head, he stepped back to look at him. And he 
smiled approvingly ; though the iron heart was throbbing hard 
beneath the dark brown breast, and the perspiration standing 
on the broad, stern forehead. 

One of the soldiers entered, and spoke to him. 

" I am none too soon," he replied. " Hold them at bay ; 
fire high : there is no need to kill even a Rajpoot. And look 
to your lives that no European is struck by a ball ! All will 
go well : there Is no chance for mistake. When they turn and 
retreat, let them go." And taking Paul on his shoulder, he 




HE HEARD A SHARP REPORT. 



284 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



gathered up the bundle of clothes, and into it thrust the 
Persian suit and the warm goatskins. "The little Hari will 
need them perhaps," he said with a sigh ; and from the other 
side of the caravansarai he sprang into the jungle. 

As they left, Paul looked back. He had not understood 
what was said, but realized that there was danger. What did 
he care for it ? He saw the soldiers, rough fellows, to whom 
blood and fighting were second nature, gathering eagerly about 
the door of the caravansarai ; he saw the servant look sadly 
toward Dhondaram, and bow to the ground ; he saw one of the 
soldiers kneel, and rest his gun upon the clay wall by the 
caravansarai-door ; and just as Dhondaram leaped forward, and 
the jungle covered tliem, he heard a sharp report. 

"What are they doing?" he asked as he clung to the 
muni's neck ; while with leap after leap he sprang through the 
dense growth, and, guided by the shouts of the party that had 
been surprised in approaching the caravansarai, he rapidly 
circumvented them, and paused in a cleft between high rocks, 
where a little brook leaped down into the shadows, — a point 
that they must have lately passed. Here he placed Paul gently 
upon the ground. A flock of wild pigeons started from the 
brook, and circling about his head flew up the ravine. 

" That is a good omen, little Hari-Sahib," he said, and 
bending over him, whispered hurriedly, " Once more the 
little prayer. Touch the water, kneel by the brook, and say 
it. There" — 

He waited. Paul had well learned it by this time, and 
repeated it without hesitation. 

" Now stay upon the knees for a little while," he added, 
turning his face away as the little blue eyes met his. " I 
must go and see what is the matter, and why they are shooting. 



V0[/ SI/ALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 285 

Nothing will hurt you here. Say the prayer over and over 
again, and do not move till some one calls you : you will 
be very happy then. Say it once more while I listen. And 
remember ! do not get up from your knees, or something bad 
might happen." 

Paul said the prayer again. He had heard no sound, but 
when he looked up the muni was gone. He started to his 
feet, and would have called ; but he remembered the charge, 
and, kneeling again, repeated the prayer once more, — the little 
Marathi prayer, — without understanding a word of it. 

The rippling brook went dancing by. Paul was only a 
child, and soon had forgotten the surrounding circumstances 
in watching the water, and playing with the pebbles, sure that 
in a little while he should look up and see Dhondaram coming 
back for him. 



286 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XVI. 

SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 

^N reaching- Massuri, Mr. Raymond and Scott discov- 
ered a very curious state of things. Roderick Den- 
nett was there, and working as eagerly as ever he 
worked in his Ufe to regain that valuable belt. But 
he worked with fear and trembling, for there was something so 
mysterious in it all that he began to fear foul play from some 
of his enemies. 

A messenger had come to his friend Mobarak in Delhi, 
leaving with him, to be given to Dennett, a package contain- 
ing a lock of Paul's hair, a little shirt that he himself had 
boueht for him, and a charm that he had worn about his 
neck. These were accompanied with a message that the boy 
was in the defiles of the Himalaya Mountains, between Amritsar 
and Massuri, and that if he would see him alive he must go 
there for him within a month. He had started at once, but 
when he reached Massuri fear so overcame him that he sent 
for Mr. Raymond. 

" We must begin the search at once," said Mr. Raymond. 
" Never mind the foul play : I think there is none. It is 
probably only a native dodge to see how anxious you are." 

They studied the routes together ; they sent out spies ; . 
they made every effort, but in vain. 

" We must go ourselves," said Richard a week later. 
'■'■ Scott is hardly well enough to risk the first passes ; but, 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 



287 



while you go over the mountains, we will take the longer 
route on elephants through the lower hills, and meet you on 
the tenth day. From there we will go on together." 

There was no avoiding this, and Dennett accepted the 
terms. 




RAJPOOT GUARD. 



Five of the famously brave Rajpoot soldiers were sent for 
from Delhi to accompany them as escort. 

" I do not like these mountaineers for guards," said Rich- 
ard, " especially when we are attempting to discover any thing 
in which other mountaineers may be interested. We shall 
have to employ them in districts where the rajahs oblige us 
to, but we will have our own men beside." 

Mountaineers were hired to carry the baggage, provisions, 
and tents. 



288 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" What a frightful looking set of fellows ! " exclaimed Scott 
as they came together for the start. "I'd rather trust my life 
with Thugs." 

"They're not so bad as they look," replied Richard. 

" But what in the world do we need such a crowd for?" 
Scott asked. 

" Because the legal burden of these men is the weight, 
of twelve quart bottles of water, and not a drop more. It is 
quite enough, too, in some of the climbing." 

"Does every one always pet the same bundle?" asked 
Scott. 

" Not by any means. They will fight for an hour every 
morning for the first choice, if they think one of the bundles 
weighs a little less than the rest." 

"They look like regular buck-knots for toughness," Scott 
remarked, with a shadow of admiration after "all for the ungainly 
fellows. 

" So they are," replied his friend ; " and yet the chances 
are, that at the foot of every bad hill they come to they will 
lie down and begin to cry." 

"What for?" asked Scott. 

" Oh ! they will say that you are killing them with over- 
work ; that you have brought them up there expressly to 
murder them; and that they are dying, while you look on 
and do not care a straw." 

"What can one do with them?" questioned Scott again. 

"Why, the best way is to tell them they are quite correct 
about it, and let them get over it as soon as they like : unless 
one is in a hurry, and then he must give them some back- 
sheesh ; that is what they really want." 

" I'd give them a thrashing instead," said Scott. 




TKE MOTTNTAIN COOLIES. 



290 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" It is sometimes quite refreshing to pound them a little, 
but they take it so meekly that one gets tired of it." 

" But can't they learn in time what is wanted of them, and 
that they must behave ? " Scott asked impatiently. 

" That's quite impossible," replied Richard ; " for we shall 
have to change them at every important town we come to. 
The same set of fellows never go but a little way. They 
spend their lives in going back and forth between two 
places." 

The Himalaya Mountains are formed like a gigantic stair- 
case, extending from the plains about Delhi and Agra to the 
inaccessible heights of which Kailas and many others are the 
upper tier, with Everest over twenty-nine thousand feet above 
the sea. The lower step of this great staircase is the elevated 
jungle rising out of the Terai, that swarms with ferocious 
beasts and venomous reptiles. During the season of rains, 
when the spongy Terai becomes nothing more or less than 
the most poisonous malarial swamp in existence, even the 
beasts are driven out, and take shelter in these jungles. 

For three days Scott rode upon a small elephant, while 
Mr. Raymond followed upon a larger one, with a few servants 
behind, carrying the necessary baggage. They did not need 
the tents and clothing, as they depended upon caravansarais 
and villages. Richard had suggested taking their rifles, as 
there was a good chance for game at this season. This 
was a fortunate thing ; for about noon on the second day, 
while Scott was almost asleep under the easy motion of the 
elephant, he was suddenly roused by a shrill cry from the 
beast, and a decided spring for that clumsy animal. 

Scott opened his eyes instantly. The head and trunk of 
the animal were stretched out as far as possible. Richard 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 



291 



called from behind, Scott turned in time to see a laree 
tiger in mid-air, as if flying directly toward him. It was a 
peculiar sensation, to meet something that belonged on terra- 
firma gliding through the air like a bird, with no apparent 
exertion ; but Scott had not long to enjoy the novelty. 

Thanks to the elephant, whose little eyes had discovered 
the tiger as he sprang, and who had strained every nerve to 




SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER. 



get out of his way, the creature missed the high aim of the 
howdah, and struck on the haunches of the beast that bore 
it. There he stuck tight, fastening his great yellow claws in 
the elephant's flesh. 

" He'll stop there for a minute. Shoot steady and sure 
for his breast, Scott," called Mr. Raymond, as he urged the 
mahout to drive his own elephant faster, and overtake the 
other. 



292 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

The tone and timely warning had a strong tendency to 
quiet Scott's excitement ; and, quickly placing his rifle to his 
shoulder, he aimed for the tiger's breast, and fired. The 
moment the rifle sounded, the mahout turned the elephant. 
This was in rule, but Scott did not know of it ; and, as the 
beast fell with a fierce howl to the ground, Scott was thrown 
on his back, but fortunately not out of the howdah. This 
sudden turning has the effect to throw the tiger if he is 
only wounded, — as proved to be the case, — instead of 
allowing him to still cling, and possibly climb higher. In 
this case it also allowed Richard a chance to catch up. 

*' Up again, Scott, be lively," cried Richard as they came 
abreast each other. " He will spring again in an Instant. Take 
my rifle. Look out ! There he comes. Kill him this time," 

The tiger lunged, tore the earth for an instant, and, see- 
ing the elephant, made another dive ; but in his haste he 
missed his aim again, and only caught his fore-shoulder. 
There he clung, looking up at Scott with his red tongue and 
purple gullet and glistening teeth but a few feet from the: 
howdah, while hoarse and harsh his breath came wheezing 
and grating. Scott's hand trembled. He drew back from the 
fearful jaws. 

" Give it to him ! Give it to him, Scott ! " exclaimed Mr. 
Raymond, seeing him under the spell of peculiar terror that 
so often benumbs one when first he faces one of the kings 
of those Indian forests ; utterly unable to move, while he 
stood with his eyes fixed on the tiger, that now began creep- 
ing up toward the howdah. Then he had his mahout push 
the elephants together ; and, even before they met, he sprang 
from his howdah, catching on the back of Scott's elephant. 
Clambering up with the rapidity of thought almost, he stood 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 293 

beside the boy as the tiger's paw rested on the opposite side 
of the howdah. 

This caused Scott to recover the presence of mind that 
had entirely forsaken him, and that has forsaken many an okler 
man than he under the same circumstances. He stepped 
bravely forward, and, hardly waiting to aim, placed the muz- 
zle of the gun to the animal's mouth, and fired. The tiger 
sprang for the rifle ; but, before his jaws closed, he fell back, 
and in a moment more lay dead upon the ground. 

" Killed your first tiger ! " exclaimed Richard, slapping the 
trembling boy upon the shoulder. 

"Why didn't you shoot him, instead of giving me the 
rifle ? " asked Scott as he climbed from the hoivdah of the 
elephant that now lay on the ground, and approached his 
first tiger. 

" What was the use ? He was yours, and you were per- 
fectly able to attend to him. 'Twould have been against 
etiquette." 

" No, I wasn't able to attend to him," replied Scott. " If 
you had not come, I should have stood there, and let him 
have me." 

"That's because he was your first," said Richard. "The 
natives say that no man is a safe hunter till he's felt a tiger's 
breath. Now you've felt it, and the next time you'll have no 
fear of that sort." 

Moro and Sayad soon came up with the light baggage. 
They were not skilled in the trade, but they succeeded in 
skinning the tiger; and with the fur, the proudest trophy of 
his wanderings in India, Scott mounted the elephant again, 
and they moved on more rapidly to make up for lost time. 

The next day they left the elephants, and went on by 



294 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



dandi. Scott found it a most uncomfortable mode ; for he 
did not make the selection that Dhondaram had for Paul, and 
had no native to walk beside, and keep the bearers in 
time and temper. They succeeded in swinging the dandi 
back and forth like a pendulum, and letting him strike against 
every rock and sharp corner by the way, that they could possi- 
bly reach. When the way was particularly narrow, as it always 
is in the Himalayas, through inanimate perversity, when it 
leads along the brink of a precipice that is particularly high, 
the bearers always carried the pole on the outside shoulder ; 
and as Scott peered over the edge of the bag in which he 
rode, and saw the forests hundreds of feet below, it made his 
blood run cold, where Paul had only laughed, 

" I wonder what would happen if one of these fellows 
should shrug that outside shoulder?" he said to Richard with 
a shudder as they rode side by side in an open place after 
crossing one of those precipices. 

"Heaven only knows," replied Mr. Raymond. "And I 
hope that neither you nor I will ever find out." 

" Well, I am frightened to death in front, and bruised to 
jelly behind," said Scott. " If there's any other kind of en~ 
gines here, I'm In for trying them. Haven't they any horses?" 

"Plenty of them, and terrors they are too, I tell you, 
Over rough places like this the fellows will jump from rock 
to rock like chamois In the Alps, lighting all fours together 
every time, on little rocks that you could hardly stand on. 
And the little brutes will shie like the mischief too ; and you 
know a horse will always back when he Is frightened, without 
caring a straw where his hind feet are going. If that happens 
to be on a precipice, over you go before you can say boo ! " 

" I'd jump off," said Scott. 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 295 

"No, you wouldn't," replied Richard: "you would cling 
to the horse and saddle for life. Then you see how the 
natives that we meet with packs on their backs always take 
the inside, and sometimes even stop and balance the bundles 
against the rocks, to watch us pass." 

" Well, they are enough to frighten any living horse ! " 
exclaimed Scott. "But is there nothinsf else?" 

" There are yaks, Scott ; and at the next village, where 
the dandi wallahs leave us, we will try and get some. They 
are safe as the mountains themselves. I never heard of a 
yak falling, or losing a passenger." 

"They'd be as good as a Cunard steamer, then," suggested 
Scott, who had found to his sorrow that the fact that a line 
has never lost a passenger is not the only requisite to a 
comfortable passage. 

" But they are ugly enough to frighten all the peasants 
in the mountains ; and when you are off their backs, take 
care ! They regard white men as the bane of all their misery, 
and go for them at every chance." 

" Never mind that, if they are all right when I'm once on 
board," replied Scott ; "for indeed I'm completely mashed to 
pieces here." 

While they were talking, a small caravan passed them ; and 
the leader, bowing very politely, saluted them, — 

" Bonesore, Sahib." 

" My bones are rather sore, thank you," replied Scott, as 
politely as possible ; but as soon as they had passed he said 
to Richard, " Wasn't that rather cheeky, to ask me if my 
bones were sore ? " 

Mr. Raymond laughed till the bearers almost lost their 
balance, but at last succeeded in gasping, " He has only 



296 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



learned a little French, Scott, and was trying to say ' bon 
soir' to you." 

"Bother his French," growled Scott: "I wish I was on 
the back of a yak." 

They had one more steep ledge to climb ; and, while cross- 
ing, an incident occurred that caused Scott to declare more 
decidedly than ever in favor of the yak. When they were 
nearly half-way over one of the narrowest ledges, where a 
steep incline rose above them, and fell away again from their 
feet, a sudden roar aroused them, — a crashing and thundering 
from above. 

Scott was then some distance behind Mr. Raymond, and 
was unceremoniously dropped in the path, dandi and all, while 
the bearers ran for their lives in opposite directions. 

Before he could extricate himself, a mass of rock and dirt 
rushed down the steep declivity at a tremendous velocity, like 
the most formidable avalanche. By good fortune the bearers 
had missed in their calculations ; and it passed a little behind, 
only covering him with dust. 

At the foot of the ravine, there was a rushing "river of no 
very dignified proportions ; but it had succeeded in tearing 
away the frail bridge that crossed it. 

" What in creation ! " groaned Scott as they approached. 
" What are those fellows carrying on their backs ? Young 
oxen ? " 

" Ferry-boats," roared Richard. 

" Ferry-boats ? For mercy's sake ! " 

When they reached the stream, the natives turned a half 
somerset, landing the mussok-skins stuffed with straw upon 
their sides in the water. 

"How much does this show cost?" asked Scott, as they 
landed safe and dry at last. 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 297 

" Just a half of one cent apiece," replied Richard solemnly. 

" Great Caesar's ghost ! " muttered Scott, as he again seated 
himself in the dandi, and was borne up the opposite hill : " I 
suppose the benighted fellows think they are doing a good 
business." 

One of the first things Scott saw upon approaching the 
village was a great, grim, ugly, ungainly yak. He knew at 
first sight that it was a yak, for in all his circus-going he had 
never seen any thing so horrible. There was an old man 
holding the creature by a ring in his nose. 

" What a haul Barnum would make if he could have that 
thing on his bill, man and all ! " Scott observed admiringly, 
estimating his chances on the creature's back, from a safe 
distance. The old man was muttering, — 

" Om, Om, Om, Om, Om, Om ! " as rapidly as possible, 
and took no notice of them. 

"What's the matter with him? Is he sick?" asked Scott 
as they passed. 

" He is going somewhere with the yak ; and before he 
starts he is saying a part of the great Llama prayer," replied 
Richard. " ' Om mani padme hum,' is the sum and sub- 
stance of their longest prayer ; and the more they say that 
word ' Om,' which is the name of God, so much the holier 
they are." 

They entered the house that usually served as an inn for 
those who did not wish to provide for themselves at the 
caravansarai. 

Here was an old woman cooking over a hole in the floor, 
and a young woman sitting by the fire, with two boys about 
three years old on her knees. She was swinging something 
like an old-fashioned watchman's rattle over the children's 



2 98 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

heads, and saying " Om, Om, Om, Om, Om ! " just like the 
old fellow with the yak. 

^' She's got it too, and got it bad," said Scott with a sigh ; 
"but what has she in her hand?" 

"A praying-stick," replied Richard. "That same prayer 
is written all over that stick, and every time it turns round 
it is as good as repeating the prayer as many times as it is 
written on the stick. Didn't you se# the men that came up 
with us stop at those little wheels by the way, and set theni 
spinning ? " • 

" Of course I did, but I thought they did it for fun. So 
they were praying- sticks too. And I suppose the young 
woman there is going it double, turning the stick and saying 
the prayer at the same time, because she has twins." 

Richard spoke for a moment with four or five men sitting 
about the hut, who had moved a little, without more ado than 
a simple salutation, to make room for them as they came in. 
Then turning to Scott, he replied, — 

"That boy on her right knee is her son, and the other 
one is her husband." 

"Husband!" exclaimed Scott, "why, I thought one of 
those grown fellows was her husband." 

" So they are, every one of them; and she has two more 
out in the mountains, with two husbands of the old woman 
there, who is their mother." 

" Great Caesar ! that's worse than harems," said Scott. "I'll 
have to tell mother about this. Is that the way they all do 
business here ? " 

"That is the way they all do business here; for you know 
we have got well up into the mountains now, and down on 
the Thibitan side is one great centre of polyandry." 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 299 

" Poor things," groaned Scott : " there are women in 
America who can't stand one : wouldn't they open their eyes 
if we should tell them about this ? " 

Two days of climbing upon yak-back proved much more 
comfortable than the days in the dandi, and brought them to 
the meeting-place, where Roderick Dennett was already en- 
camped ; and two days more brought them to the heights 
where they pitched their tents, where Paul and Dhondaram 
passed them just as the sun was setting. 

Little Paul had not even seen the camp. The dandi in 
which he was carried was purposely turned, that it might open 
on the other side. Dhondaram had calmly walked up to the 
servants, and conversed with them : he had asked them where 
they were going, and many questions about the members of 
the party. 

In the morning there was snow half a foot deep over 
the ground ; but with the first rays of sunlight the snow dis- 
appeared like a morning mist, while from under it there 
suddenly appeared a thick carpet of beautiful mountain 
flowers, just as fresh and fragrant as if they had only come 
from a bath in the morning dew. Even the glacier that they 
crossed an hour later was a broad river of mountain flowers. 

As Scott's eyes became weary of watching the changes 
with the rising of the flashing, glaring sun, he went toward 
the cook, who sat by his fire. A pot of tea was boiling 
furiously ; yet he saw the fellow pour out a cup for himself, 
and drink it down without waiting a moment for it to cool. 

" He must have a throat of cast iron," said Scott to Mr. 
Raymond, who had joined him ; but he opened his eyes in 
astonishment when Richard went up to the fire, and did 
precisely the same thing. 



oQo OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Try it," said Richard, giving him the steaming cup. He 
daintily touched it to his Hps, and looked up in surprise. 

"Why, it is hardly warmer than new milk! " he exclaimed: 
" it must cool rapidly." 

"It is not that exactly," Richard replied; "but when you 
have graduated from college you will know, that, on general 
principles, at this elevation water will boil away before it is 
really hot. You couldn't boil a leg of mutton here if you 
should try all day. But breakfast is ready, and we must be 
under way. We have a few more places to search before we 
climb the highest pass and go down on the other side." 

"What a place for Englishmen this would be!" Scott 
remarked, still thinking of the boiled mutton, as he sat down 
on the ground and began his breakfast. 

At the end of a two hours' march they were brought to 
a stand by a shot from a mountain soldier's gun, fired from 
above the parapet of a caravansarai, at an incline of forty-five 
degrees above them. 

"Stop, stop!" cried Dennett: "there is trouble there! 
There are robbers, or no one knows what not. Wait till I 
go back and hurry on the rest of the escort." 

They drew back a little out of range, and held a consul- 
tation ; but nothing but his first proposition would satisfy 
Roderick Dennett. He had no intention of advancing into 
unknown danger, and started back, resolved that the others 
should try the danger before he threw himself into it. 

" Coward ! " said Richard scornfully, when the man had 
disappeared. "There is no danger. The fellow fired into 
the air. We will go on." 

So they started forward again, without Dennett, after 
having waited less than half an hour; when an old, totter- 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 301 

ing, ragged, dirt-grimed pilgrim came slowly up the way 
behind them, climbing with difficulty, and bending wearily 
upon a knotted cane. 

He had almost reached them, when, seeing that they were 
moving on, he hailed them in a weak voice. They waited. 

" You are white. You are Englishmen," he said, catch- 
ing his breath like one who had very little to spare for speak- 




■ PAUL I PAUL 



ing. " I climbed up a little brook to reach yonder haven by 
a short cut. You will cross it down the track, and croinc' 
down the stream you will go as I came. I passed a little 
child down there. He was kneeling by the water, weeping. 
He was white : I could not touch him ; but you might," he 
added with a scornful sneer. 

Electrified by the intelligence, Mr. Raymond and Scott 
turned back down the narrow way, without waiting to hear 
more. They had hardly gone a quarter of a mile when before 



02 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

them, in the path, upon his back, stark dead and staring at 
the sky, lay Roderick Dennett. His face was horribly dis- 
colored, and his throat swollen from strangling, while blood- 
stains on his vest betrayed a dagger-thrust. 

They stood for a moment aghast, when Richard discovered 
something printed in blood upon the bosom of the dead 
man's shirt. 

He bent forward, and in Marathi read, — 

" The last of the ' condemned.' The eighty-third traitor 
who has fallen beneath the hand of Dhondaram for his trea- 
son to India. The muni has fulfilled his vows. The outlaw 
has avenged his country. Dhondaram is no more." 

"Scott," said Richard, rising, "you said once that you 
would like to see Dhondaram." 

" So I did," replied Scott, standing, very pale, before the 
corpse. 

" That old pilgrim was the man. This is his last victim." 

Scott started. " And Paul ! " he gasped. 

" I do not know," said Richard. " It may be only an ac- 
cident that he took this way of bringing us here. Let us 
go on." 

Strained to the utmost in every nerve, Scott hurried on 
faster than Richard could follow him. He found the brook : 
he leaped from rock to rock to follow it. He sprang through 
a narrow cleft. Before him knelt a little child playing with 
the water. 

" Paul ! Paul ! " burst from his lips. 

The boy looked up. He started back. The veil that had 
shrouded the past was suddenly swept away. 

" O Scott ! my Scott ! " he cried, and sprang into his 
arms. 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 303 




CHAPTER XVII. 

IT ^WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM! 

]NLY the narrow space between the time that Paul 
left his father's house with Roderick Dennett till he 
took the hand of the muni always remained a period 
of the utmost uncertainty to him. The happy hours 
at home, he remembered all of them. The time that he spent 
with the muni, he never forgot one minute of it. It was a 
long time before he perfectly discriminated between Hindu- 
stani and English, in speaking ; and it was one of the most 
curious sensations that Scott had ever experienced, to hear 
his petted little baby brother chatting briskly with the Hindus 
and Mussulmans, ordering them about, understanding their 
ways, and explaining to him their peculiar customs. 

When Richard came upon the brothers, still locked in each 
other's embrace, he could not refrain from wonder at the rosy 
cheeks, the tastefully curling hair, the bright blue eyes, the 
fashionable little suit of clothes, the shining boots, and the 
dignified bearing, which latter had been instinctively copied 
from Dhondaram. 

When at last they turned to leave the place, Paul pointed 
to the bundle that had followed him so long, and in Hindu- 
stani said, — 

"There are my clothes. But I am not going away till 
Dhondaram comes back," 

" Dhondaram ! " Richard started, and looked at Scott. 
Scott caught the name, and looked at Richard. 



204 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"Who is Dhondaram, Paul?" Mr. Raymond asked. 

" I am Hari-Paul : not Paul all alone," replied the boy 
promptly. " Dhondaram called me his Hari-Sahib ; and 
Dhondaram, — don't you know him ? He is one of the best 
men in the world. Dhondaram ! Oh, he is the very best ! 
He is my servant, my horse, my every thing. No indeed ! 
I'll not go till Dhondaram comes." 

It was two hours before they could persuade the boy, with 
tears in his eyes, to go away from the spot where Dhonda- 
ram had left him. 

From that moment they made the most rapid progress 
possible toward the south. And many and many a word that 
Paul spoke of his friend, the muni, as they went, brought 
fresh astonishment to Mr. Raymond, as it told of the heart 
in Dhondaram's breast. Morning and night, and whenever 
they halted by a stream, Richard noted with horror that little 
Paul carefully bathed his face and hands, and repeated some- 
thing very gravely, with his hands clasped before him, while 
he knelt with his head bowed. He supposed it was some 
Hindu devotion that Dhondaram had taught him. But at last 
he succeeded in being near enough to overhear the little 
Marathi prayer. Scott was beside him, and, noticing his 
emotion, asked, — 

"What is it, Mr. Raymond?" 

Richard did not answer directly ; but, as Paul rose from 
his knees, he asked, — 

"Where did you learn that, Paul?" 

** Call me Hari-Paul," said the boy sternly. " If I have 
lost my dear, dear Dhondaram, I will not lose the name he 
gave me. He taught me that prayer, and taught me how to 
say it ; and I will always say it, — yes, I will always say it." 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 305 

"That is right, Hari-Paul, say it always, — always say it," 
replied Richard fervently; and Paul loved him better from 
that moment. Then turning to Scott, with tears in his eyes, 
Richard replied, "It is, — 

" ' Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.' " 

" Dhondaram told me that no one would ever say I should 
not repeat that prayer," said Paul triumphantly. 

They were bound for Calcutta, but on the way were 
obliged to stop for a day at Benares, as Mr. Raymond wanted 
to see the half-caste foreman concerning some of Roderick 
Dennett's papers that he could not fully understand ; and to 
occupy the time pleasantly for Paul, who still was often very 
sad over the loss of his friend, they drove all the afternoon 
about the outskirts of the city. It was a Hindu festival. All 
the temples were crowded with pilgrims. In their brightest 
holiday attire were the priests and dancing-girls in the Temple 
of Bhowani, in the extreme suburbs of the city. The sight 
was so tempting that Richard proposed that they stop and 
watch the ceremony. 

It was early for the special service before the Mother ; and 
while some of the inurli girls clustered about the altar, some 
were yet at the tank, where they had been bathing as a form 
of purification. Beyond this tank stretched the plain, dotted 
with ruins, and the road leading toward Sarnath, where Scott 
had driven with Mr. Raymond. 

It was a picturesque spot, bordered by clusters of flowering 
shrubs, made more attractive by the bright costumes of the 
dancers in several little groups about the tank. The three wan- 
dered through the throng down toward it, instead of entering 
the temple. Beside the marble steps, leaning against the para- 
pet and one of the slender shrubs, stood one of the principal 



3o6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and most beautiful dancers. She had thrown her sari behind 
her, and laid some of her ornaments upon the ledge, prepara- 
tory to stepping into the bath ; but she had evidently forgotten 
the temple, its accessories, the dance, and the throng that was 
gathering, and in her thoughts was far away, — perhaps on 
the snowy slopes of the mountains, perhaps in the humid 
heat of the plains, surely not where she was standing. 

Scott pointed to the girl, and said to Mr. Raymond, " How 
sad she looks ! I wonder what troubles her." 

Paul followed the direction ; and what was the astonishment 
of the two when he broke from them, and, rushing toward her, 
sprang into her arms, crying " Gunga ! O Gunga ! " 

What was their amazement when the beautiful murli bent 
forward, and, clasping the little fellow to her heart, burst into a 
passionate flood of tears. 

As they drew near, they heard Paul ask eagerly, " O 
Gunga ! where is Dhondaram ? I am crying ! I am dying for 
my Dhondarani ! " 

" Dhondaram is in prison, bound with chains, in Calcutta," 
Gunga answered sadly. 

Richard frowned, and said anxiously to Scott, " I read in 
the papers this morning that Dhondaram had given himself 
up to the English, and was taken to Calcutta. I did not dare 
to speak of it, for I feared that Paul might hear." 

" O Gunga, it must not be so ! I will break the chains ! 
No one shall hurt my Dhondaram ! " said Paul. 

" But he did it himself," answered Gunga. " He sent me 
word that I must not try to help him, for he would have it 
as it was." 

" But O Gunga, I love him so ! " sobbed Paul. 

"And so do I," said Gunga sadly. "He is my father." 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 307 

It was not until Gunga was obliged to prepare for the tem- 
ple that Paul would leave her; and then only on the positive 
promise that as soon as was possible he should be allowed 
to see her again, but that first he must go to his home in 
America. He little dreamed how far away it was. 

They went on to Calcutta. Paul remembered the name, 
and demanded that he be taken to see Dhondaram. It was 
a strangely affecting sight, the meeting of the two, — the 
hardened criminal, as the law considered the muni, weeping 
over and caressing the blue-eyed boy ; and the little white 
hands fondling the roughly furrowed face. 

Paul would not leave him ; and through Mr. Raymond's 
Intervention Dhondaram was moved to a better room, that 
was carefully guarded ; and Paul remained with him over night, 
sleeping, as he had not slept since the night in the clay 
caravansarai, on the arm of the cold-blooded murderer. 

Mr. Raymond stopped at the Great Eastern Hotel, in the 
English quarter of the immense city, where he was well 
known and as influential as Scott had found him all over 
India. He exerted himself to the utmost to do something 
for Dhondaram in the few days that remained before the 
steamer sailed from that port, by which they should return 
to America by way of the beautiful island of Ceylon. He 
secured a promise that the utmost mercy of the law should 
be extended, and finally, to the astonishment of all, that the 
sentence of death should not be passed in case the muni would 
take the most solemn of his oaths, and swear on the neck 
of the litde Paul that he was entirely penitent, would never 
attempt to escape and resume his former life, and would give 
the government information that should result in the capture 
of Nana Sahib. 



3o8 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



The court-room was crowded with prominent officials, all 
anxious to see the famous Dhondaram. He was led in in 
chains ; and many a low hiss sounded from different parts 
of the room, to which he paid no attention, as proudly he 
walked between the soldiers to his position. Paul was sitting 
on the opposite side of the bar ; and, in spite of every 
endeavor to restrain him, he walked across the room directly 
in front of the highest dignitaries of the law, paying no heed 
to them, and fondly clasped the hard hand of Dhondaram in 
both of his. An audible murmur ran over the room, but 
neither Paul nor the muni noticed it. 

The officer rose ; and, when order was gained, the long list 
of charges was read, and the deserved condemnation of death 
alluded to. 

" If you kill my Dhondaram, I will kill you ! " cried the 
clear, ringing voice of a child ; and many started, and looked 
in astonishment at the flushed face of little Paul. But, without 
heeding the interruption, the officer read the terms upon which 
the death-sentence might be relieved. 

The room was still. All waited breathlessly the reply of 
the outlaw. 

" Dhondaram gave himself up to the English because 
he was ready to receive what they might have for him," he 
replied slowly, with true Hindu dignity. " It was not to 
re-purchase his freedom. Had he wished to be free, he 
would be free this day. No one captured him : no one was 
able to. And do you think that Dhondaram came here to 
be a traitor to his own ? Did any one ever hear of Dhon- 
daram's betraying a friend of India ? " He waited a moment : 
then added solemnly, " No worm upon the ground, no bird in 
the air, shall be able to say over the ashes of Dhondaram, 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 209 

that he was a traitor. No ! not though the English burn me 
ahve, as they have one of my countrymen ; not though they 
blow me to pieces from the cannon's mouth, as they have many 
of my people ; not though they torture me, defile me, hang 
me, starve me to death, as they have thousands of Hindus 
already. And do the English think that I would take an 
oath, even to do what I wished to do, upon this little neck, 
more sacred to me than all my gods ? " He laid his hand 
tenderly over the clustering brown hair. " No ! not for life and 
liberty ! No ! not for the surety of an eternity of bliss in the 
paradise of Indra would I defile this little one with an oath 
of the blood-stained Dhondaram!" 

A murmur of applause replaced the hisses that had greeted 
the entrance of the muni. He was remanded to prison. But 
Mr, Raymond assured Paul that there was no danger of the 
sentence of death being passed, and that he must return to 
India by and by, and see his friend again. 

The child's heart was partially comforted by this ; and, as 
they had one day left before the steamer sailed, they spent it 
in riding about the city to try and occupy his mind. But he 
was much more interested in stopping on their way home upon 
one of the little branches of the Hoogly, where native boats 
were moored all along the banks, and native farmers who 
had come down with their products were wandering on the 
sand waiting for purchasers. 

In a peculiar way Paul had eaten the lotos that draws 
many an older Occidental heart back again to Oriental India ; 
and he laughed and chatted with the peasants, and dug in 
the sand with the native children, just as he had often played 
upon the coast at Beverly. 

Mr. Raymond was too well pleased to see him enjoying 



, J Q OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

himself to disturb the pleasure, and he and Scott sat together 
on the bank. 

" There are thousands of more beautiful things in India 
that you have not seen than all we have looked at, Scott," 
said he ; " and I hope some other time to be able to show 
them to you ; but the first steamer will be none too soon 
to take Paul back to anxious hearts that are waiting for him. 
There is a magnificent palace not far from here, with an 
enormous hall of three galleries, divided by long rows of black- 
marble pillars, wonderfully carved, that I wish you might see 
when the sun is setting, as it is now, and its red light floods 
the long galleries, making a dark garnet and purple out 
of the black : you would think it one of the grandest corri- 
dors in the world. Then there is all of Southern India. Oh, 
there is a wonderful world that you have not seen yet ! You 
must surely come again." 

" I certainly shall," replied Scott earnestly. 

" You will stop for a few hours at Madras, on the southern 
coast, as you go down to Ceylon in the steamer, and a few 
hours at the beautiful and almost landlocked harbor of Point 
de Galle, on the Island of Ceylon, where an unbroken line 
of cocoanut-palms grows upon the very water's edge. You 
must make the most of the time you have at each of those 
places." 

"/ must?" Scott asked, looking up in surprise. "Are 
you not going too ? " 

" I am very sorry, but I cannot go," Richard replied sadly. 
" I have had my vacation ; and I have work that I must at- 
tend to at once in Bombay, in connection with Roderick 
Dennett's misdeeds. But a very dear friend of mine, a mis- 



IT WAS MY O WN DHOXDARAM. 



311 



sionary from the interior, leaves with his famil}' on the steamer 
for America, and will be delighted to do every thing for you 
and Paul. You will have a very pleasant trip. You will c-arry 
very good news too. I will give you a sealed package con- 
taining Dennett's confession of the bank-robbery, entirely 
freeing your father from the suspicion that he must have 
been complicated in some way ; and by good fortune I shall 
be able to send security, too, for nearly the entire amount of 
which Dennett robbed the bank, for I have learned of several 
large deposits that he made here." 

" But there is the reward for finding Paul," said Scott, 
" and all of my expenses." 

" I have had a very pleasant visit from you, Scott," replied 
Richard, smiling. " I shall be very glad to pay your expenses 
over here again, any time that you will come to see me. I 
do not want the money. The only living relative I have is my 
sister in Beverly, who is well married, and needs nothing. I 
am abundantly wealthy, and have no family. There is no use 
in my hoarding up money. Besides, yoiL found Paul. I did 
not find him. I suppose there would be perhaps a legal 
claim for me, so I have enclosed an order for the money to 
be paid to you." 

"You are a very strange man," Scott stammered. 

"I told you long ago," Richard answered, smiling, "that 
you must never take it for granted that what any one does 
is through purely disinterested motives. It will not do. I 
wanted to find Roderick Dennett. I should have taken any 
amount of pains to find him. He escaped from me on the 
express to London, when I followed him there. I told you 
how while we were in England. Do you remember?" 



. J 2 OUR BOYS JN INDIA. 

"Was that the man t'hat the old woman stopped the car 
for?" asked Scott in surprise. 

"That was the very man. I did not know then that he 
had gone to America. No one knew it ; for no one knew 
his real name, till I chanced to read the old name in a Boston 
paper, as cashier of your father's bank. I went to America 
expressly to find him. I have accomplished the business much 
better than I could if he had remained there. And all I 
ask of you, Scott, is, that you let me know, by and by, how 
you dispose of the money." 

"That I can tell you now," replied Scott earnestly. " Half 
of it I shall give to the American Board for India as soon 
as I receive it, and the other half I shall save to distribute 
here myself. I made up my mind to one thing a long time 
ago — a month at least," he hesitated. 

"What was that?" asked Mr. Raymond. 

" Why, Paul and I broke wishbones with Bess and Kittie 
at the party the night he was stolen. We each had the long 
end. Paul wished that he might see India, and I wished that 
I might have an opportunity to be a hero. Paul has had his 
wish, and I have had mine. I saw what good people the 
Hindus might be, and what kind of a hero it was that I ought 
to be ; and I promised myself that if we found Paul all safe, 
and took him back to America again, I would be a mis- 
sionary : and so I will." 

" God bless you, Scott ! " exclaimed Mr. Raymond fer- 
vently. "You have your wish, — an opportunity to be a hero. 
Go it with all your soul. Be a good missionary, and you will 
be one of the greatest heroes on earth. Paul has set you 
an example already as to the right way to work, in his power 



IT WAS MY O WN DHONDARAM. 3 1 3 

over that strange nian Dhondaram. Go it, Scott. You're on 
the right track." 

The steamer was a large one, and was lying in the river 
instead of at the wharf. They were obHged to take a boat 
to reach her. Paul rebelled against going away without seeing 
Dhondaram ; but Mr; Raymond at last succeeded in persuad- 
ing him, as he feared a last interview. 

When they reached the wharves, a long ride from the city 
proper, one of the ugly, hooded boatmen caught Paul in his 
arms, and ran for a dingi. 

"Confound their impertinence!" muttered Richard. "These 
boatmen will do any thing to secure passengers. I've a mind 
to refuse him." 

" It doesn't matter," replied Scott. " One dingi is as good 
as another. It is only for a moment." 

They reached the steamer ; and, as the same fellow again 
took Paul in his arms to carry him up the swinging steps, 
Mr. Raymond and Scott went on ahead. 

As Paul was being borne up the ladder, the boatman put 
his lips close to the child's ear, and whispered eagerly, — 

" Hari-Sahib, don't speak ! don't speak, or they will kill 
me. No dungeon-bars could keep me from asking a blessing 
from my Hari before he left. Remember the little prayer I 
taught you, and pray for me, that I may be your servant, 
your horse, your dog, in the Christian heaven where you will 
go. Pray for my Gunga and Prita and Kashibai too. Let us 
all follow you, Hari ! my Hari ! " 

Paul threw his arms around the rough boatman's neck, 
and kissed his dark lips, just as they reached the top of the 
ladder. The boatman hastily freed himself, and, seeing that 
Mr. Raymond and Scott were looking at him, he bent very 



-J. OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

low, and, kissing the little white hands, pressed them upon 
his forehead. Then, without rising again so that they could 
see his face, he ran down the ladder, and into the boat. 

The missionary was standing beside Mr. Raymond, and 
remarked carelessly, " These superstitious fellows are very 
eager to receive a blessing from any one going on a long 
journey." Then taking Paul's hand, he said, " Well, Master 
Paul, I trust we shall be the best of friends before we reach 
America." 

Paul snatched his hand away. "No, sir!" he exclaimed 
in Hindustani (for in his excitement he had forgotten which 
language he should speak) : " not if you call me Paul. Hari 
is my name, and always shall be." (A resolve that he still 
firmly adheres to.) 

"Very well, then," replied the missionary: "I will always 
call you Harry. It is a very pretty name." 

But Mr. Raymond had seen more than the blessing that 
the missionary spoke of; and, taking Paul in his arms, he 
whispered, " Hari-Paul, did you know the boatman who brought 
you up ? " 

Paul looked at him suspiciously for a moment ; but, read- 
ing only friendship in his eyes, he answered with a sob, — 

" It was my own Dhondaram." 



89 6 



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